SGDA Masterlist

Pairing:Stephen Strange x OC and Loki x OC

Summary:OC is a lawyer visiting her best friend in New York. Will she fall for the charming doctor? Or will her neverending conflict with the god of mischief lead to more?

Tags:Post-Endgame, AU where everyone is alive and well, Eventual Smut, Fluff with some Angst, Second Person POV, No Y/N, Avenger Loki.

SGDA Taglist -Playlist

Chapter 1 - London to New York

Chapter 2 - Do not Talk to Strangers

The Sorcerer, The God and the Devil’s Advocate 

Chapter 2/? (Previous Chapter) (Chapter Masterlist) (SGDA Taglist)

Pairing:Stephen Strange x OC and Loki x OC

Summary:OC is a lawyer visiting her best friend in New York. Will she fall for the charming doctor? Or will her neverending conflict with the god of mischief lead to more?

Tags:Post-Endgame, AU where everyone is alive and well, Eventual Smut, Fluff with some Angst, Second Person POV, No Y/N, Avenger Loki.

Chapter song: Boys like You - Dodie (SGDA Playlist)

You tried to look inside the building while maintaining your distance at the bottom of the stairs. “Give me a second.” The man walked inside the apartment, leaving the door ajar. You stood there a little embarrassed, feeling extremely out of place. ‘This would probably be the stupidest way to get kidnapped’, you thought to yourself, holding Bjorn’s leash tighter, hoping the gigantic dog would discourage them from taking you. 

You could hear mumbling inside, “no… noo… you are a doctor. Help her… she seems nice… just help her.” The door opened again, and a tall well-groomed, handsome man stood there, wearing the same intriguing clothes as the other. You shifted your weight between your feet, unsure whether this was the doctor the other men had spoken of. 

“Wong has told me you hurt your shoulder. Do you need any help?” He spoke stoically, almost mechanically; however, you could feel a faint hint of annoyance in his voice.

“Well, I am okay. He told me he knew a doctor and that maybe my shoulder was dislocated. Are you the doctor?” You asked, feeling extra self-conscious about your looks now that this handsome stoic man was looking at you from the top of the stairs.

“Oh, yes, I am the doctor. Call me Stephen. I would be happy to give your shoulder a look. However, I guess you would have to come inside for that,” he sighed, looking down at you, “and I am not sure how comfortable you are with coming inside a stranger’s house.” The message was loud and clear as he obviously found this request a waste of his time. You felt instantly more uneasy, as he seemed bothered by your presence.

“It’s okay. I’ll just go home and put some ice on it. Thank you and sorry for bothering you.” You decided to leave, unwilling to let the doctor continue to make you feel uncomfortable. You started to walk away, missing the disapproving shove Wong gave the doctor. 

“I am sorry. I think I unintentionally came out as rude. Give me one second.” Stephen walked behind you, and Wong followed. “I will just give it a look here. Wong, can you hold the dog?” Wong looked at you, asking for permission to grab Bjorn, and you gave him the leash. His tone had changed drastically between sentences, sounding more eager to help now.

“Can I touch your shoulder?” He asked patiently. You nodded, and he started moving your arm, trying to figure out where it hurt. His touch on your skin was delicate and surgical as he tried to come into contact with it as little as possible.

After a couple of minutes, he stated, “everything seems to be fine. However, it would be best if you tried to not put any pressure on it for the next couple of days. Although you seem to have just slightly over-stretched your ligament, it is important to be careful because you could sprain it.” His eyes were still on your shoulder as yours searched for his. He eventually backed away and stood by his friend, distant and dismissive. 

You smiled at him awkwardly “well, thank you. Ehm… Wong? Could I have Bjorn back, please?” You used the name you heard the doctor call the other guy. 

“Oh, I think you should let Strange walk you at least to your street. As he said, you may sprain your shoulder, and this guy seems to have recuperated all his energy already,” Wong responded, pointing at Bjorn, who was going in circles and trying to chase a wild squirrel. The doctor and his friend exchanged a look. You were unsure if Wong expected Stephen to flirt with you or just liked to put him in awkward situations, but you would not have minded the extra help.

“It’s okay. I am sure you are both very busy.” The doctor did not seem particularly keen to do it, and you were not gonna push it. Wong moved closer and elbowed him. 

“I would be happy to walk you to your street. Wong is right.” The doctor cleared his throat and spat out the words quickly, looking at the street.

“Ehm… I mean, sure.” Wong gave Strange the dog’s leash, and you started walking towards Central Park. The shorter man waved at you as you exchanged an entertained look, hoping he had not just set you up for the most awkward walk of your life. 

…

Stephen walked in silence by your side, his jaw tightly clenched as he tried to think of something to say. You hated awkward silences and could not understand how such an attractive man could be so inept at socializing. “So.. you are a doctor… What type of doctor are you?” You asked, kicking a small rock in front of you as you walked.

“I wa- am a neurosurgeon.” He answered, adding little to nothing to the conversation. You pressed your lips, unable to understand what his problem was. 

“Wow, you don’t strike me as somebody with a god complex.” You joked, hoping it would help him relax and open up the conversation.

“Do you think all surgeons have a god-complex?” He looked at you curiously, letting the corner of his lips lift just so slightly. Your sincerity had taken him slightly aback. 

“I don’t think, I know. I am the daughter of one.” You responded, kicking another tiny rock and keeping your eyes on the street. “Big egos and an even bigger need to always have everything under your control.”

He grinned, entertained. It was not the first time he had heard that. “What do you do?” He tried to change the topic. Sure your perception of surgeons would not help him impress you.

“I am a lawyer, recently qualified. I work in London.” You looked at him, scanning his face for a reaction. He shook his head incredulous as soon as you finished speaking, smiling, thoroughly entertained. You had not quite understood what was so funny.

“A lawyer judging a surgeon for his god complex, a bit hypocritical, wouldn’t you say? What brings you to New York?” You were looking at each other properly for the first time, and you could not help but appreciate his handsome features. His gaze had softened significantly since you first saw each other, offering you a friendlier, more welcoming expression. 

“Lawyers are nothing compared to surgeons when it comes to ego.” You tried to defend yourself, although you knew he was right. “My best friend lives here. I have five weeks off before I start full time as an associate, and she has taken it as a personal challenge to bring me here and make me fall in love with New York so I won’t go back.” You broke the eye contact and looked at the trees.

“Well, you must be enjoying the nicer weather here.” He commented, leaving out that he had been in London visiting the Sanctum just two hours ago, “I hope to be helping her case.”

“There are places with good weather all year round that I like more,” you replied unamused, already annoyed at New Yorkers’ obsession with New York.

“So, what direction are we going?” He asked as you had been walking for a while now.

“I need to get to Central Park. I am having lunch with my friend there. It is quite a long walk, so I am happy to continue alone,” you responded honestly, slightly saddened at the thought of having to say goodbye already, just as the conversation was finally improving.

“No, it’s alright. I need to leave my house more often. A long walk will be good.” Maybe he was more charming than you initially believed. You relaxed instantly, hoping to talk to him a bit more.

Bjorn was behaving nicely. He seemed to like Stephen. You looked down at the leash instinctively and could not stop yourself from looking at the doctor’s hands. Although faded, you could see he had severe scarring on them. You looked up before he could catch string, not wanting to make him uncomfortable. 

“So, do you have any plans for your time here?” He asked politely, opening the conversation again.

“Not really, my friend Sophie spends most of her time at work during the week, so I was hoping to find my way around and have some solo adventures. I like doing things by myself. I feel like people don’t do many things they want to do because they don’t have anyone to join them, which is a wasteful mentality. Life is too short to wait around.” You answered, smiling without taking your eyes off the street.

“Well, if you ever need a city guide, I am sure Wong or I can show you around.” He awkwardly offered. You pressed your lips together as you smiled, noticing his intentional inclusion of Wong in his proposal. 

“That sounds great; yeah, Wong seems super nice. Not a man of many words for sure, but very nice.” You teasingly specified, trying to see if he was just being polite or if he actually wanted to hang out with you.

“Well, I am sure Wong would love to show you around, but now that I think about it, he has been very busy lately. Also, I think I am better company generally, a lot more talkative.” You felt your cheeks grow warm as you had the confirmation that he was at least somewhat flirting with you. 

“Oh really? You don’t strike me as particularly chatty.” You teased him again, hinting back to the initial awkwardness and silence.

Your conversation was interrupted by Sophie calling you, “Babe? Hello? I am so so sorry, but I won’t be able to grab lunch with you. There is a situation at the office. I will tell you all about it once we see each other. We can meet at home at 4 pm?”

“Ehm, yes, no worries. I am in good company anyway. See you later.” You answered, referring to Bjorn but hinting to the doctor and hung up. “Well, my lunch plans are cancelled, so I think I’ll just head home.”

“If you’d like, we can grab something to eat. You need to try a sandwich from a deli while in New York.”

“Sure! Let’s do that.” You agreed, smiling down, hoping he would not notice your excitement. 

…

You grabbed the most giant sandwich you had ever seen and sat down together on a bench. You got some water for Bjorn from your backpack and a little snack.

You eventually told him your name, giggling about the fact that he had not asked earlier. The two of you spoke about music and art. You told him how much you loved galleries, and he asked you what your favourite painting was. You answered that The Swing by Fragonard was one of them, so detailed and full of hidden meaning. You could look at it for hours and continue to find new elements. 

He told you he was not a huge art nerd but that Caravaggio’s chiaroscuro style had always called his attention. You asked him which of his paintings was his favourite, and he thought about it for a second, “the betrayal? The taking of Christ, I believe, is the full name. The light in the armour makes it so realistic.” You thought of the painting in your mind, thinking how the expressions of shock and betrayal had always stopped you from appreciating the realistic lighting of the image. 

You continued walking after a while, lost in your conversation. Stephen was a well-travelled man, dwarfing your travel achievements. It seemed like he had been everywhere, visited every city you had and more. You eventually arrived at Sophie’s apartment’s street, letting him know this was your stop.

“Well, I should get going,” You announced awkwardly. Stephen gave you Bjorn’s leash and opened his mouth hesitantly.

“You know, I should probably look at your shoulder again in maybe a couple of days to make sure you did not sprain anything.” He tried to keep a stern expression, but the nervousness was tangible, making you smile as you felt your cheeks grow warmer.

“Wanna check it out over dinner, maybe? I pay, you know? For the medical fee?” you gave him a confident smile, and he chuckled, smiling back.

“Sounds good, but you have to let me pay. Please take it as a welcome gift to the city. I am sure you’ll have another occasion to pay back your medical debt. Could I have your number to send you the dinner details?” You smiled. He wanted to take you out.

“Yes, of course.” You proceeded to give him your number. “Well, it was a pleasure to meet you, Doctor.” You gave him one final dashing smile and entered the building.

….

Sophie got home around 4:30 pm, and as soon as she entered, she ran to Bjorn. “Hello! How is the goodest boy in the world doing?!” She asked him, ignoring your presence.

“Well, he is okay, except he almost dislocated my shoulder and ate some guy’s sandwich!”

“Oh no! My baby Bjorn would never ever do that! He is just a playful boy. He would never hurt anyone!” She kept the baby talk while petting him. “He is so tired! What did you do to my poor baby?” She added.

“Well, he should be super tired. We walked more than 8 kilometres this morning!” You responded, moving to the side of the couch so she could sit next to you.

“Why would you do that? Oh my god. You know we have public transport here too, or how do you call it? The tube,” she tried to pull off a posh London accent, forcing you to roll your eyes. 

“Well, I was first supposed to only walk to Greenwich Village, but then I hurt my shoulder, and this guy told me he knew a doctor, and well then we went to the doctor’s house, and the doctor was this super handsome man and his friend forced him to walk me back, so I walked back with him.” You spoke, trying to summarize your morning in one breath, hoping she would not hear the part where you followed a stranger to another stranger’s house. 

“What happened with do not trust strangers in New York? People here are weird. I am glad you did not get killed.” She answered, alarmed. There was a weird dismissiveness in your friend’s gaze as she refused to look at you properly, keeping her eyes on the dog. 

“He kind of asked me out on a date. It was more like me asking him, but I gave him my number, so we will see.” You decided to ignore her dismissiveness, knowing that if she needed to tell you something, she would do it herself. 

“OH my god … that is awesome! He is a doctor too?! That’s fantastic. How old is he? What’s his name?”

“He is for sure older than us. He has some grey hairs but in a hot way. I don’t think he is old, though, he is maybe in his late 30s, but I am not sure. He is a surgeon and has a house in Greenwich, so he cannot be too young to be done with all his specialization and be making that type of money. His name is Stephen.” You said, laying your head on her shoulder as Bjorn tried to spread across both of you for pets.

“Okay, well, he sounds nice, and he walked you all the way here, which is insane. So let’s hope for the best. I found the perfect bar for us to go to tonight on other interesting news.”

…

The two of you started to get ready together and ordered some sushi for dinner. You sat on the ground doing your makeup while eating pieces of nigiri. Sophie had kept the weirdly fidgety attitude going, letting you know she was close to breaking her silence. 

She finally spoke up, pausing the music, “I have something to tell you, and I know you are gonna kill me once I tell you, but like I had to wait until I knew it was okay.” There it was. Years could go by, but your best friend’s lack of capacity to keep a secret had not improved.

You looked at Sophie, putting down your mascara. “What’s up? What did you do now?” You asked her to continue.

“I am so sorry for not informing you before. You know my job, right?” She spoke shyly, sitting closer to you on the ground. You cocked your head, unsure where this was going.

“Yes…what about it? You are starting to worry me. Just tell me.” You reached for her hand.

“So… you know how I work in 'Risk Management’? That actually translates to I deal with all the fuck ups and problems the Avengers have. I am like the new Pepper Potts, except I am not gonna marry any of them.” She joked. You looked at her, not sure if she had been drinking already before coming home or if she was trying to be funny. “You know the dog? Well, that’s like Thor’s dog,” she added.

The silence in the room grew thick as she expected an answer. “Mmh mmh,” You hummed, going back to putting on your mascara, unsure what was the point of her joke. 

“Is that all you have to say?” Don’t you wanna kill me for not telling you before?“ She shook your shoulder and looked at you in shock. 

"Well, if it is true. Why didn’t you tell me before?” You looked at her sceptically, putting down the mascara once again before you would end up poking your eye out. 

“Because we are not allowed to and I was waiting for Tony to be okay with it and I have been talking to him about you for the past weeks and he is finally okay with it. He even wants to meet you and see if you vibe with the team.” She rambled, looking at you seriously.

“Sure, Sophie, well, we can meet him after I am done hanging out with Matthew Grey Gubler next week.” You joked, not understanding where she was going with this random lie/joke. Sophie was incapable of keeping secrets from you. This was practically impossible, or it meant she had been in constant agony for the past couple of months. 

“Babe, I am being serious. Whatever. You are meeting them all next weekend anyway, Tony is throwing a party, and we are invited. So somewhere next week we have to go shopping for dresses.” She stated, getting up a little irritated that you refused to believe her.

“Yep, I’ll make sure to organize a dinner with the queen of England next time you visit.” You laughed at yourself, grabbing your mascara again. Bjorn was sitting next to you, so you patted him on the head “you are the dog of the god of thunder, huh? That totally makes sense.” Sophie let go of the topic, for now, unwilling to ruin the night. 

Right before you finished getting ready, you received a text from an unknown number:

'I have made a reservation for this hidden gem in the city. It’s a little difficult to get there, so I am happy to pick you up. The reservation is for Tuesday 8:00 pm.

Stephen’

You saved his number and answered quickly:

'That’s perfect. I’ll send you my address so you can pick me up on the day.’

…

The night was fun. You drank a lot of tequila and danced with a group of bankers. Sophie was a little annoyed at you for not believing her, but you just could not get over the fact that she would somehow keep this a secret from you for so long and then randomly decide to tell you before you went out. She got over her bad mood pretty quickly once you started drinking, and then you had a lovely night reminiscing your years partying together.

After you had lost the count of the shots at some point during the night, you had the amazing idea to text Stephen. A fantastic drunk idea that you would surely regret in the morning. You grabbed Sophie’s arm and took her away from the dance floor into the bathroom.

“I am gonna send Stephen a message!” You screamed at her in the bathroom, smiling like a drunk dumbass proud of your 'clever’ idea. 

“OMG yess! Take a selfie in the mirror!” She cheered you on just as drunk as you. You made two terrible decision-makers while drunk. 

You took a picture of yourself trying to look as sexy yet innocent as humanly possible and wrote:

'Wishing you were here xx’

You closed the messaging app and went back into the dance floor, forgetting about it completely a couple of minutes later. The bankers offered to take you guys home, but you refused, not accepting their advances. You got home at around 3 in the morning, completely drunk. Sophie took the keys out of her bag, trying to open the flat door.

“Do you need help there?” you asked her as she missed the hole at least twice.

“Nope, you are drunker than me. No chance you can be of any help right now.” She finally got it on the fifth or sixth try. 

You entered the flat and turned on the lights. Bjorn woke up from all the noise, a little confused about what was happening. Sophie petted him, and you threw yourself on the couch after taking off your shoes.

“Oh man, we drank a lot. Maybe a little too much. Do you have any aspirin? I don’t wanna be too hungover tomorrow.” She answered your query with a glass of water and two aspirins in her hand, anticipating your request.

“Here, take this, and let’s go to bed.” She said, moving your legs, sitting next to you, downing her glass of water, and then dropping her head on the back of the couch. You took the aspirins and put the glass on the coffee table.

“I want nuggets.” You spoke, hungry.

“Well, you should have thought of that before we got home.” She looked back at you, annoyed.

“Well, can you not get like Spiderman to deliver us some?” You joked, causing her to punch you on the arm. 

“It is not funny bitch. I am being honest with you. I have been only working for them for like two months. There was no chance for me to tell you any earlier. Come on, believe me.” She begged you, “also, Peter is probably fast asleep, probably spent the night doing math homework or something” she laughed at herself.

“Oh man, is Spiderman a teenager?” You looked at her incredulous.

“Anywayyy, let’s go to sleep.” She responded evasive, trying to get up and pulling your arm to take you to bed.

“But nuggetsssss…” you complained, standing up with her.

“Tomorrow, you can get nuggets.” She said, pushing you into the bathroom to brush your teeth

…

The warmth of the sunlight on your face brought you back to life. The killer headache took over your senses as soon as you regained consciousness. You tried to open your eyes, but the mere thought of it made you feel stupidly dizzy. Next came nausea, forcing you to run eyes closed and all into the bathroom and throw up whatever was left of the sushi in your stomach.

'What a great start to your Sunday morning’, you thought while lying on the bathroom floor by the toilet for what seemed like forever before Sophie came in running and screaming, “MOVE.”

You barely moved in time before your friend met the same faith as you, throwing up as she tried her best to hold up her hair. You crawled out of the bathroom towards the kitchen looking for water but were met by a gigantic excited puppy running your way.

“Good Morning Bjorn. Please let me go, or I will throw up on you,” you warned him as he jumped on you, making you lay flat on the ground.

“I cannot do this. What the fuck did we drink yesterday night?” Sophie grunted from the bathroom.

“I only know one thing, I am never ever ever eating sushi again.” You answered, still lying face down on the floor.

“Bjorn needs to go on a walk.” Sophie let you know, asking the unspoken question.

“Well, that is not my responsibility. I walked him yesterday, and he is your friend Thor’s dog.” You replied, knowing damn well you would have to walk him anyway.

“You may see the handsome doctor on your walk. You can go to Greenwich.” The handsome doctor… those words brought an image back to you from yesterday night, and just like that, your nausea from the drinking was substituted with nauseating embarrassment. Your eyes opened wide, and you got up from the floor, running towards your phone that lay dead on the couch. 

“FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK. WHERE IS YOUR CHARGER?” You screamed, running into the bathroom to find Sophie slowly getting up.

“What’s wrong?? It is in the kitchen! Calm down!” Your face turned as warm as possible as you ran to the kitchen and plugged the phone. “What’s wrong?!” Sophie shouted again.

“Oh my fucking… I texted him while I was drunk at like one in the morning. I sent him a picture of me. You told me it was a good idea! Aaaah” you screamed dramatically, standing by the phone, hoping the pressure would make it charge faster.

“Oh fuck yeah haha, I remember. I am sorry about that haha,” although still dying, Sophie found this funny incident to be the silver lining of a shitty morning. “I am sure you looked hot,” she lied to you between giggles.

“It does not matter how hot I looked, Sophie! I was drunk! I met him yesterday! He is gonna think I am insane!” You replied, dropping yourself on the couch and giving up on your phone turning on any time soon.

“You are overthinking it! Everybody sends drunk texts to people they find attractive. He will be flattered, and if he is not, you dodged a bullet because you hate boring man.” She said, going to the kitchen and grabbing glasses of water for the two of you.

“Can you check if it is on?” You asked, covering your face with a pillow on the couch.

“Nope, still nothing.” She responded, bringing you the water.

“I am just gonna block him and never step a foot on Bleeker street ever again. I am just gonna take the next flight to London.” You announced theatrically, chugging the water after sitting up.

“Everything is okay! New Yorkers are not as presumptuous as British men. He won’t judge you for it.” She tried her best to make you feel better, giving Bjorn some food before sitting by your side.

“But he is not a twenty-year-old rugby lad Sophie, he is a proper sophisticated man, and I wanna die.” You cried out, putting your head on her shoulder.

Although minimal, the vibration of your phone made you spring up from the seat faster than you should have, as you instantly felt nauseous again. You opened your phone as if it was a time bomb and opened the messaging app.

1 - Unknown Number

2 - Stephen 

“Oh my god, I have two messages from him. I don’t wanna open it, Sophie. I am gonna throw up.” You cried out again.

“Don’t be such a baby! Open it!” She said, walking to your side and opening them for you

Stephen 

Wishing you were here xx

1 Attachment

Well, this is something nice to wake up to.

Hope you enjoyed your night out, darling. Don’t overwork your shoulder.

“See! Everything is fine! He is flirty!” Sophie reassured you, looking over your shoulder. You opened the other message.

Hey! It’s Hunter from Goldman Sachs. It was nice to meet you yesterday.

“Who the fuck is Hunter, and how the fuck does he have my number?” You looked confused at your friend.

“Oh shit, I think I gave it to him on our way out. Sorry, Babe. He was cute, though and seemed to be very into you. Keep your options open! It is New York!” She answered apologetically.

“Sophie, he is an investment banker. I would let a mass murderer rail me before an IB man. He would probably have better karma anyway.” You joked, closing your phone.

“Oh well… I take Bjorn on a short walk, and you buy us some breakfast? I don’t want you to overwork your shoulder.” She winked at you teasingly.

“Sounds like a plan. I need a baseball hat, sunglasses, and black coffee in my system.” You declared, turning around and putting some water to boil on the kettle you had gifted your friend years ago. You were glad she kept it.

…

Sunday was uneventful at best. You both felt dead inside and ate little to nothing in fear of throwing up. You finally ordered some burgers for dinner and finished them. After eating, you took Bjorn for a short walk around the block, staying away from Greenwich completely.

Monday morning, Sophie left for work early, and you had breakfast on the couch with Bjorn. After your morning walk, you received a bunch of emails from London requiring you to sign certain documents and jump on a quick call with the firm’s employment team. At some point in the afternoon, you finally took the chance to explore the building’s gym and exercise a little. After a warm shower and another quick walk with the Golden Bear, you sat on the couch watching the news. Sophie had gone MIA, and it was almost 10:00 pm. You sent her a message checking if everything was okay, but your phone started vibrating just as you finished sending the message.

Incoming Call - Stephen Strange

'Oh God, why was he calling? Like who even calls people nowadays without texting them first,’ you thought as you picked up.

“Hello?” You answered.

“Hi, how has your day been?” He replied smoothly on the other side of the line.

“All good, boring, doing lawyer things. What about yours?” You responded as a smile formed on your lips at the sound of his voice.

“It has been good. I wanted to check if you were still up for tomorrow?” You could hear a faint hint of nervousness in his voice again.

“Yes, of course, I was worried you were gonna cancel on me after my drunk messages from yesterday night.” You responded, laughing at your drunk self.

“Why would I ever do that? As I said, it was a great surprise to wake up to, and you looked stunning. I am flattered to know I occupied your thoughts while you were out partying.” You could not help yourself but smile cheekily.

 This man knew exactly what he was doing. You were surprised; he really did not give you any playboy vibe the first time you saw him. I guess everyone has a little of a hidden past.

“Well, I hope to not disappoint with my looks tomorrow night.” You said, obviously asking for more validation from him as he tapped on keys that he had not before.

“Well, I hope the same too. My expectations are even higher now.” He was good. He was not gonna give you more than a taste of his advances. He knew how to keep a woman wanting. You bit your lip.

“Goodnight, Doctor, sweet dreams.” You cut the conversation short, hoping to leave him wanting for more.

“Goodnight, darling, sleep well.” He hung up; however, you could hear the smile in his voice.

—–

Liv’s Note

A huge thank you to everyone that is reading this story. You have my heart, my soul, and everything else. Looking forward to hearing what you think of the story or its improvements haha Please please reblog the story to support my writing ♥️

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Title: Stjarnavetr

One Shot: The Wager

Author:renlem

Character: Loki

Genre: Angst, Erotica, Drama, Romance, Tragedy

Overall Rating: Mature (for strong language, strong sexual content, and strong graphic violence)

One Shot Summary: Loki and his mistress Stjarnavetr make a bet to see who can go the longest without sex.

Chapter warnings/triggers: Language, Sexual Content

Author’s Notes: This one shot takes place sometime between Parts I and II.

Stjarnavetr:Table of Contents

__

Loki

The room was quiet, only the somnolent crackling of the fire and the soft scratching of pen across paper to be heard. I was sitting at the table in my bedchamber, open books and papers strewn before me, researching a topic for Master Hauknefr. The essay I was working on was supposed to have been completed a week ago, but was still unfinished and due tomorrow morning.

Stjarna was lying on my bed—had been for the past hour and a half—already in her nightgown, and every ten minutes or so she would sigh loudly and dramatically. I did not ask her what was wrong since I knew, but unfortunately there were more pressing matters at hand.

Finally, I heard her get up and come to stand behind me. She bent down, wrapped her arms around me, and pressed her head against mine.

“Loki?”

“Hmm?”

“When are you coming to bed?”

“Soon,” I assured, silently cursing myself when I accidentally smeared a word with my hand.

She huffed. “You said that an hour ago.”

“I have to finish this.”

“You should have finished it last week.”

“I know,” I replied, somewhat curtly, “but I didn’t, so I’m doing it now.”

“If you haven’t finished it by now, you’re not going to.”

“Thank you for the encouragement, darling.”

Stjarna exhaled sharply and let go of me. She poured herself a cup of wine from the flagon on my table—her fourth cup this night—took a few sips, and sat in the other chair. She glanced disinterestedly around, tapped her fingers impatiently on the tabletop, and sighed again.

“Do you need something?” I inquired, somewhat apathetically, and not bothering to raise my head.

“Yes.”

“Is it going to distract from what I’m doing right now?”

Stjarna sighed heavily in answer, obviously frustrated, and I could not help a little smile. It was not often that Stjarna was the one begging me for sex, but I must admit I liked when she did, since normally it was the other way around. Regrettably, though, if I did not finish my work tonight, Master Hauknefr would likely report it to Mother, who would drag me in front of Father for neglecting my lessons, and that was something I wished greatly to avoid.

“We haven’t done it since the day before yesterday,” Stjarna complained, and my eyes flickered to hers. She was reclining in the chair, twirling a lock of hair between her fingers, cup dangling from her other hand.

“So?”

She gave me a look and I laughed.

“What, it wasn’t enough to hold you over for a few days?”  

“I was half asleep, I hardly noticed.”

I snorted. “Oh, so it is habit to scream my name while you’re half asleep?”

Stjarna’s cheeks bloomed pink and she huffed again and stood up, placing the now empty cup loudly on the table. I thought she was going to go back to bed, but to my surprise, she came around the corner of the table to stand next to me, pushed some of my books out of the way, and lifted up to sit on the edge.

She smiled at me, slowly swinging her legs.

“I was using those,” I remarked dryly, cocking an eyebrow.

“And?”

She crossed her legs, gazing expectantly at me.

“Honestly, Stjarna, I am surprised you want to do this now. My education is very important, you know.”

Stjarna, appearing unfazed, promptly and confidently responded, “Like I said, Loki, if you haven’t finished it by now, you’re not going to.”

I set my pen down, leaned back in my chair, and folded my hands over my stomach, studying her.

“So you want to fuck me?” I asked, attempting to conceal a smile.

She glanced away, cheeks flushing an even deeper pink, and I wanted to laugh. For as long as we had been together, and all of the raunchy, debauched things I had done to her, and she to me, she still grew embarrassed when I spoke so.

“I… wouldn’t necessarily word it like that…”

I smirked, reached over with one arm, wrapped it around Stjarna’s waist, and dragged her towards me. I pushed my papers and books out of the way and sat up a little straighter, nudging her legs apart so they dangled on either side of me. Stjarna grinned impishly when I took her by the hips and pulled her closer, so she was perched just on the edge of the table and my front pressed against the inviting heat between her thighs.

“Then how would you word it?” I murmured, tenderly kneading her soft skin through the wispy material of her gown.

Before Stjarna could reply, however, I lowered my eyes and leaned forward to affectionately kiss the space between her breasts. I slowly slid my open hands down her thighs, grabbed two fistfuls of her nightgown, and lifted it up to expose her bare skin. Slipping my fingers beneath the hem, I ran my hands back up her legs.

Stjarna’s breath caught in her throat when I turned my head and kissed her breast, taking her quickly burgeoning nipple between my lips. I smiled, wetting the diaphanous fabric with my tongue, languidly sucking on her. She reached up and curled her fingers on the back of my head, moaned my name and tilted her head back when I bit her.

I glanced up briefly before raising my head to pepper openmouthed kisses over Stjarna’s chest and across her collarbones before descending to her other breast. I tugged on her with my teeth, coaxing a halting gasp from her lips, and shifted restlessly in my chair. I could feel myself already growing increasingly aroused, not helped by the breathy little sounds Stjarna was making, and she way she was ever so subtly grinding herself against me.

I slowly opened my eyes when Stjarna tugged on my hair, pulling my head back so I was looking up at her, and she lowered her face to mine and kissed me, pushing her tongue past my teeth to explore my mouth. I responded eagerly, could already smell her desire lingering in the warm air.

Stjarna breathlessly broke the kiss, nipped playfully at my bottom lip, and whispered mockingly, “It’s too bad about your essay…”

I pressed my lips together, and feeling just as equally mischievous, stood up suddenly. Stjarna gasped in surprise when I yanked her off the table, spun her around, and pushed her down so she was bent forward over the edge. I trailed my open hand down her back, over the ridges of her spine, and pressed my lower half against her. I felt the crease of her arse through the thin fabric of her nightgown and the desire simmering inside me flared a little hotter.

Stjarna whispered my name when I leaned down, wrapped my hand gently around her neck, and lifted her up so she was pinned between me and the table. Her breaths were coming a little quicker now and I smiled shrewdly as I kissed beneath her jaw and then up and down the side of her neck, knowing she could feel me hard against her backside.

“I’m not sure you’re that torn up about it,” I breathed, snaking one arm around her. “You’re getting what you wanted.”

She laughed softly and I reached up to pull her nightgown down over her shoulder.

“You wanted me to touch you?” I asked, placing a wet, openmouthed kiss to her warm skin.

Stjarna slightly arched her back, only let out a quiet breath in response.

“Well?”

“Yes,” she answered in a whisper, turning her head so her lips brushed against my temple.

“What else?” I wondered, lifting up to nip at her earlobe.

“What do you mean?”

“I want you to tell me,” I said, lightly stroking the column of her throat with my thumb.

“I want you inside me,” she finally replied, grabbing my hand and moving it to her breast. I cupped it, squeezing a little too hard, and cajoled a breathy, pleasured whimper from her lips.

“What part?” I grinned, lightly pinching her nipple through the gauzy fabric, damp from my kissing earlier.

She laughed and with her other hand reached between us. My breath hitched when she touched me, began slowly, methodically, rubbing me with the heel of her hand, bringing me rapidly the rest of the way to arousal. Stjarna was well aware of how hard she was making me, and when she spoke I could hear the smirk in her voice.

“What part do you think?”

I closed my eyes and bit the top of her shoulder, exhaling slowly as she palmed me. Pleasure radiated up and out, building between my legs. No, but this was too easy—I wanted to have a little fun.

Abruptly I grabbed Stjarna’s wrist, withdrew it from between us, and pinned it to the table. I leaned forward until she was once again bent over the edge, pressed completely flat against the surface, cheek resting on an open book.

“You want me to fuck you?” I growled, lips brushing against her skin.

She only whined my name in response, pushing back against me, and I let out a breath against her flushed skin, wet with my saliva. I moved my hand down her body until I slipped my fingers between her legs, and a rivulet of desire coursed through me when I felt how wet she was.

Stjarna moaned and pressed her face into the book, curling her fingers on the table as I languidly rubbed that little pearl at the top of her sex through the soaking, gauzy fabric of her nightgown.

“Tell me,” I demanded breathily, gradually increasing the pressure of my touch. “Tell me what you want me to do…”

If she had so wittingly interrupted my studies for this, she might as well indulge me.

Stjarna huffed and squirmed beneath me; clearly she wanted it now.

“I won’t let you come at all if you keep acting like this,” I threatened. “You’ll have to finish all by yourself.”

Stjarna chuckled to herself, but then gasped when I pressed my fingers harder against her.

“What is so funny?”

“You—you wouldn’t be able to watch me without joining,” she retorted breathlessly, and the fire smoldering in the pit of my stomach flickered at the notion.

“Is that a challenge?” I muttered.

“Maybe…”

“You don’t think I can resist you?”

“I know you can’t,” she laughed.

“Is that so?”

“Yes,” she remarked haughtily. “You can barely go two days without it.”

I felt odd at that, and was quiet for a moment before suddenly releasing her and taking a step back. Stjarna’s laughter died in her throat and she pushed herself up off the table and turned around.

“What are you doing?”

“I can go two days without it,” I insisted.

“No, you can’t,” she rejoined with a sly smile.

I scoffed. “And what are you doing right now?”

“Oh, please, Loki, we both know it is almost always you,” she stated assuredly, rolling her eyes and coming to stand before me. “When I return from staying at Konavefr’s, you practically drag me into bed!”

“I only do that because I want to.”

She giggled and reached up to place her hands on my chest. “I am sure.”

“I don’t have to,” I maintained. “I can control myself.”

She laughed again, obviously not believing me, and ran her hands down over my front until she came to the laces of my pants. Just as she went to fall to her knees, I caught her hands, stopping her, and she glanced up at me in surprise.

“Hold on, Stjarna,” I said. “Look at this, you want me just as much as I want you.”

Stjarna paused, considering my words, and straightened. She folded her arms over her chest.

“Well, how about this? How about neither of us act like we want the other?”

“What?”

“Just what I said, Loki.”

“Are you testing me?”

“Perhaps.”

“Oh, a competition?” I asked in amusement, quirking an eyebrow.

Stjarna considered it for a moment and then smiled. “Yes.”

“Alright then,” I agreed. “We will see who can hold out the longest.”

“Without sex?”

“Yes,” I concurred arrogantly, foolishly not even bothering to think ahead as to how miserable I would be. “Whoever gives in to the other first loses.”

“And what does the winner get?”

“Er, what would you want?”

Stjarna appeared pensive for a minute and then announced, “Your mother’s wanted to have a dinner with just us and Thor and Vinda but you keep refusing to go.”

“Yes, because it is idiotic.”

“Well,I would like to go. If I win, we go.”

“Ugh, fine. What if I win?”

“You won’t,” she expressed confidently.

I rolled my eyes. “Yes, but what if I do?”

“Well, what would you want?”

I grinned, already having it in mind.

“If I win, you will accompany me as my partner to the next banquet.”

“What?” she cried. “Loki, I would really rather not—”

“I see not why that is a problem, seeing as you’re so confident you’ll win?”

Stjarna pressed her lips together, staring hard at me. The last banquet she had attended as my partner—sitting up at the high table with me during the feast instead of at the handmaiden’s table—had not gone so well in her eyes, and she had refused since then to accompany me to one despite my insistence.

Finally, Stjarna acquiesced and I grinned triumphantly. The next banquet was a little over a month away and would be to celebrate the annual hunt. I figured our little wager would be finished by then, and I had no doubt Stjarna would be accompanying me.

“Well, I suppose it is time for bed,” Stjarna announced suddenly, making a show of stretching her arms and yawning.

“Actually, I think we should finish what we started tonight and begin fresh tomorrow.”

Stjarna did not even respond—just laughed loudly as if I had said the most absurd thing in the world—and headed to my bed. She slipped beneath the covers, purposely oblivious to my glare. I was still hard, desire still simmering in my lower half. There was no way I was going to finish my essay now, I wouldn’t be able to think straight.

Grumbling to myself, I undressed as I walked to the bed, and Stjarna eyed me as I crawled under the covers.

“Are you going to be okay?” she wondered, attempting to mask a smile.

I glanced down at my lap, where the evidence of my desire was quite prominent.

“Yes, I am perfectly capable of getting off without you—”

“You can’t do that.”

“What? Why not? You’re not involved. Though you’re more than welcome to watch, of course.”

“That’s cheating.”

“I’m not allowed to get off by myself?”

She smirked. “No.”

“That was not part of the agreement,” I retorted. “It was whoever broke first and begged the other for sex.”

“Fine,” she huffed. “Just try not to wake me up.”

“Well, I’m not that desperate for it,” I uttered, rethinking it. “It will… go away.”

She only smiled, leaned over to kiss me on the cheek.

“Goodnight, Loki.”

I grunted a baleful good night and she giggled to herself before sliding down further into the bed and turning over.

I lay there on my back for a long while, hands folded on my stomach. Eventually—too long, in my opinion, my desire faded, and I gradually fell asleep, speculating whether I was prepared to forego sex for as long as Stjarna could. But then, based on tonight, I figured it wouldn’t be that difficult.

I was determined to win.

__

The next morning when I awoke, Stjarna was still asleep and curled up against me, wrapped around my arm, nose pressed against my skin. It was still early, so I lay there for a long while, listening to her gentle breaths, before carefully disentangling myself without waking her.

I ran a bath, and while waiting for the tub to fill, quickly—and somewhat bitterly—got myself off. It wasn’t anything spectacular, but it was better than nothing, especially after last night, and I felt a little better when I emerged half an hour later.

Stjarna had woken by then and informed me breakfast was on its way. She glanced over at the table as I began getting dressed, where the ruins of my attempt to complete my essay lay.

“Oh, you didn’t finish it.”

I snorted. She said it as if it was some unfortunate coincidence.

“Well, it is entirely your fault,” I snapped. “You try to seduce me, get me to stop working, and then we don’t even fuck.”

Stjarna burst into laughter. “You survived, though, didn’t you?”

“Barely,” I muttered, thinking on how long it had taken the night before for my desire to fade.

Still giggling to herself, Stjarna disappeared into my bath chamber. When she later emerged, we ate breakfast together, which had been brought while she was readying.

“Loki, may we dine together tonight?” Stjarna asked halfway through, holding a piece of pink fruit between her fingers.

“Very well. Honey cakes?”

She grinned. “As always.”

__

That night, I had dinner brought to my chambers as Stjarna had requested.

I was sitting at the table, and the servants were just finishing laying out the food when Stjarna arrived. She slipped through the open doorway, smiling innocently enough, and my eyes immediately fell down to her breasts, which were half-exposed by the low-cut collar of her dark blue dress—one I had never seen on her, but vaguely remembered.

My lips parted in shock as she sat down and thanked a male servant who filled her cup with wine, and whose gaze I noticed also drifted to her chest. I cleared my throat, annoyed by his wandering eyes, and he quickly bowed and scurried out with the others.

Stjarna smiled at me once the door was shut.

“Good afternoon, Loki.”

“What is that?” I said flatly.

“What?”

“Don’t play dumb,” I snapped. “Your breasts are practically hanging out.”

“Oh,this?” she laughed. “Do you not remember? You gifted me this dress—”

“Years ago,” I interjected brusquely.

Stjarna never wore such revealing clothes, save for the little shifts she sometimes donned at night when we had sex. I had gifted her this particular dress over two years ago, hoping she would like it, taking a chance on the low collar edged with gold embroidery, and, as I had suspected, she told me she had liked it, but never actually worn it.

Tonight, however, I knew her intent. Part of me was surprised—and a little impressed—at my usually innocent Vana’s guile.

“I’ve seen your breasts plenty of times,” I remarked nonchalantly, taking a draught of wine. “Think not you’re going to accomplish anything tonight.”

“Loki!” Stjarna exclaimed, feigning offense. “I am shocked you think I would lower myself to—”

“You’re a terrible liar, Stjarna.”

She grinned, reaching for a honey cake. “I know.”

I began piling food on my plate, and though I tried to hide it, I could not help myself from glancing surreptitiously at Stjarna’s breasts. Though I was not allowed to touch them, what with this ridiculous wager of ours, I was allowed to look, for it was not often I received such a tantalizing view of them while eating. Only an inch lower and I’d be able to see—

“Loki.”

“Yes, darling?”

She was drizzling glaze over the venison on her plate, smiling without regarding me.

Grumbling to myself, I averted my eyes, but my attention was quickly drawn back when Stjarna spilled a bit of glaze on her fingers and began licking it off, much too slowly to actually be useful.

“What are you doing?”

“I’ve got glaze on my fingers,” she rejoined.

I rolled my eyes, suppressing a laugh. “You’re not a very good flirt, Stjarna.”

She sighed, picking up a cloth to wipe her hands, and I burst into laughter.

“You’ve always been a terrible flirt, actually.”

“Yes, well, if I remember correctly, in the beginning you almost ruined everything with your terrible flirting.”

“But I got you, didn’t I?”

“Somehow,” she muttered, poking at her food.

I smirked. “And you love me now.”

She did not answer, but I saw the corner of her lips twitch upwards in a smile.

“You know,” I said slyly, “I could show you how much I love you tonight. Or right now…”

Her eyes flickered up to mine. “I know you could.”

I stared expectantly at her, silently urging her to stand up, to proclaim she could not stand it any longer, but she only tilted her head, smile growing.

“Do you think I’m going to give in that easily?”

I frowned.

“Then tuck your breasts back in, it’s not going to work.”

“Oh,” she sighed, as if dismayed. “You seem to like them well enough the rest of the time…”

I stuffed a mouthful of venison past my lips as she gazed penitently at me.

“Do you not like them anymore, Loki?” she wondered sadly, curling her bottom lip.

I swallowed my food. “It’s not going to work, Stjarna.”

“I see,” she said, tone changing immediately. “Perhaps I ought to change, then, since you’ll remain unswayed.”

“A wise decision,” I smirked.

Stjarna stood up and went into my bedchamber, where I knew she had a chest with some dresses folded in it. I continued eating, feeling very sure of myself, but nearly choked when Stjarna reentered a few minutes later wearing nothing but one of those racy little shifts.

Her pale legs were exposed all the way up to right below her hip, just covering that spot between her legs, and her breasts were even more exposed than before, and I could faintly see her nipples through the filmy material, all of it held up by two thin little straps, which I knew from past experience could easily be ripped apart.

Stjarna’s expression remained completely neutral as she sat down across from me.

“You can close your mouth,” she stated, picking up her cup of wine.

I slowly closed my mouth, pressing my lips together.

“Why aren’t you this spontaneous all the time?”

“Because a dinner with your mother and brother are never at stake,” she countered imperturbably, taking a sip of wine.

“Do whatever you want, darling. It won’t work.”

She smiled.

“We’ll see.”

__

Stjarna and I had made it to the third week without giving in to one another and it was becoming extremely difficult. I wanted her, and she wanted me, but neither would forfeit to the other, and my wrist was beginning to ache.

One night after dinner, Stjarna was sitting in front of my fireplace reading. I had decided to bathe tonight and exited my bath chamber with nothing but a towel wrapped loosely around my waist. I had not dried myself completely yet and headed to my wardrobe.

“What are you reading?” I inquired as I walked by Stjarna, pushing my damp hair away from my face.

“The queen let me borrow it,” Stjarna answered, flipping a page. “It concerns the history of Vanir art. She thought I might like it since my father was a painter.”

“Yes, it sounds interesting,” I said.

“It is, there’s an entire chapter on—”

When Stjarna suddenly cut off mid-sentence, I glanced at her. She was staring at me, words caught in her throat.

“Is something wrong?”

She pressed her lips together. “What are you doing?”

“What do you mean ‘what am I doing?’ I just got out of the bath.”

But Stjarna only smirked and lowered her eyes to resume reading.

I began rifling through my wardrobe, but turned again when I discerned a prickling on the back of my neck. Stjarna was peeking at me above her book, and when I caught her eye she quickly covered her face and giggled.

“What are you doing?” I laughed.

“Reading,” came the muffled reply.

I cocked an eyebrow. “Really?”

“You didn’t do a very good job of drying off,” she stated a little more loudly now. “You’re dripping everywhere.”

“Am I?” I said wryly, and I took the towel from around my waist and lifted my arms to roughly dry my hair. “Is that better?”

Stjarna was peering over the top of her book again, and though I could only see her eyes—wandering now with wild abandon over my naked body—I knew she was grinning.

“Yes.”

I chuckled, turned back to my wardrobe, and finished picking out my outfit for the next day.

Stjarna and I went to bed a little earlier than usual that night, so it took me longer to fall asleep. Eventually I grew tired of staring at the wall, and was just on the verge of drifting off, when I heard Stjarna—whom I had assumed to already be asleep—make a soft sighing sound behind me.

My eyes flew open, for I had heard that sound before, and immediately sat up and looked over. Stjarna, who was very much awake, froze and gazed up at me with an embarrassed little smile, and I saw that beneath the covers her hands were between her legs.

Heat snaked its way down my spine, coming to settle between my legs, knowing that she was touching herself.

Stjarna bit her lip, attempting not to smile so widely.

“What are you doing?” I inquired, not bothering at all to mask my own wolfish grin.

She scoffed. “You can’t just parade around half-naked in front of me, dripping wet, and expect me to ignoreit.”

I only laughed.

“So unless you’d like to join me—of your own volition, of course—I’d like to finish.”

“Oh, of course,” I smirked, lying on my side with my head propped up. “Carry on, darling.”

Stjarna’s lips twitched upwards in a smile.

“Do you want to know what I’m thinking about?”

I knew what she was doing, but figured I was strong enough to resist.

“Yes,” I breathed. “Tell me.”

She grinned and proceeded to recount to me how she was envisioning me on top of her, mouth on her skin, my body between her legs and deep inside her. Stjarna knew it drove me crazy to hear her talk like that, to have her exuding such blatant want.

By now I was hard, and by some miracle restrained myself from slipping my own hand beneath the covers. I only watched her, and though it was not the first time I had observed Stjarna touch herself—though it was the first time I had consciously made the decision not to help her or myself—I took immense pleasure in the way her smile eventually melted away and her lips parted, how her breaths began coming more heavily, how she rolled onto her side to face me and one of her hands came up to touch my chest.

If she would not give in to me, at least she made it evident it was I she was thinking of. Stjarna curled her fingers against my chest, closed her eyes, and I lightly wrapped my fingers around her wrist as she came. She let slip a breathy little moan as I gently ran my hand up and down her arm, and then a few moments later relaxed and smiled almost drowsily up at me.

Stjarna scooted closer to me, wiping her fingers on her nightgown before wrapping her arms around my middle. She buried her face in my chest and happily sighed, and I lay there still burning up with desire.

Gods, she was driving me mad; I wanted to pin her down and fuck her into the mattress, until she was crying my name, to relieve this almost painful aching between my legs. She must have wanted desperately to win, she hardly ever acted like this—and I loved it—but unfortunately I could not touch.

“Goodnight, Loki,” Stjarna murmured sleepily, nestling even closer.

Attempting to banish this heat broiling inside me, I wrapped my arms around her and held her as she drifted off to sleep, consoling myself with the fact that soon—not soon enough, but soon—she would have to give in to me.

__

In the morning while Stjarna still slept, I went in to my bath chamber and, like that first morning, quickly got myself off, recalling Stjarna’s little moans from the night before. Afterwards I leaned against the wall, attempting to slow my breathing, and pressed my forehead to the cool stone.

It wasn’t good enough. I wanted her—badly—but this little competition between us was not only a matter of avoiding a pleasant dinner with my mother and brother and his mistress, but a matter of pride. Of course I loved Stjarna, but I wanted to prove her wrong, as well. I suppose it was the arrogance in me.

Sighing, I cleaned myself up and went to have breakfast fetched. Once it was laid out and the servants gone, I went back into my bedchamber and found Stjarna still sleeping. I walked up to the side of the bed, bent over, and kissed her shoulder.

“Stjarna.”

She flinched in her sleep, made a soft sound as she stirred, and slowly opened her eyes, turning her head to gaze up at me.

“Did you sleep well?” I inquired with a smirk.

She smiled knowingly and stretched.

“I did,” she admitted, rolling onto her back.

“I’m glad to hear it,” I replied, somewhat sardonically, and she giggled. “I’ve had breakfast brought. Get dressed and we’ll eat.”

Stjarna nodded, but just as I straightened up to go back into the other room, she caught my hand. I looked down as she sat up, holding the covers up to her breasts.

“Loki?”

“Hmm?”

“Can we go to the city today?”

“Why?”

“I don’t know,” she said with a small shrug. “I was thinking about it last night. We haven’t been in a long while and I wanted to do something today.”

I considered it only briefly before acquiescing, and Stjarna grinned in delight, slipped out of bed, and went to get ready.

After we had eaten breakfast, I told a servant to let Mother know I would be taking the day off and to inform my tutors. They would be displeased, but I didn’t really care. I knew I wouldn’t be able to focus on my studies today, anyway, what with images of Stjarna touching herself still lingering in my mind. A day in the city would help distract me and take my mind off of sex.

Stjarna and I went down to the stables, took a couple of horses, and rode down to the city. Her favorite thing to do in the city, surprisingly, was to visit the market. It was an all-day venture, with hundreds of merchants—a good number of them from other realms—selling food, textiles, livestock, and other commodities.

For some reason Stjarna liked spending the whole day walking, stopping at different booths, and perusing the goods. I did not much mind, though, since I often found things that interested me, as well.

Eventually, a stall selling weapons caught my eye and Stjarna followed me over as I began browsing.

Stjarna always amused me when she would pick one up and say, “Is this good?”

And I would study it and comment on the metal being slightly warped, or too long or too short, and she would smile as if she was proud of me, and the merchant would glare at me from behind his stall because other customers had overheard me censuring his products. I never seemed to find any weapons to satisfy me, though, for none were as well made as those forged by our blacksmith in the palace.

Afterwards, Stjarna grew quite excited when we came across a stall run by a Van merchant, and who was also selling books. Stjarna conversed merrily with the man and they spoke of Vanaheim as I absently glanced over the selection of books. Eventually Stjarna began inspecting the stacks as well and found a few she liked.

“Loki,” she said, showing me a particularly distressed tome. “This one is about Alfheim.”

“I’m fairly sure I have that one on my shelf somewhere…”

“Oh, well, what about this one? It concerns the fire giants of Muspelheim.”

I took the book and leafed through it while Stjarna continued browsing, and eventually she settled on four books which she insisted on paying for herself. She was looking forward to beginning the one about Muspelheim, for I possessed few comprehensive books about that realm.

She bid a cheery goodbye to the Van merchant and we continued through the market. It was only when the sky began to grow dusky that we left and Stjarna wondered if we could visit her family. We paid them a brief but pleasant visit, and by the time we departed night was falling.

As we rode back to the city, twinkling in the rapidly fading light, Stjarna asked if we could stay there tonight.

“Where?”

“I don’t know. An inn, perhaps?”

“I suppose we could do that.”

“Somewhere along the river?” she requested hopefully, and I laughed.

“Very well.”

In the city, on a busy little street adjoining the river, we found an inn. I requested a room on the top floor overlooking the water, since I knew Stjarna would wish to view it. She was elated to be staying at an inn, though I could not understand why. I suppose she enjoyed the departure from our usual routine, and I would gladly indulge her.

We ate supper there, and though it was not as rich as what we would have eaten at the palace, it was hearty enough. After dinner, we went upstairs to our room, which boasted a small balcony. Here we sat, suspended in darkness above the street, watching the lazy river sparkle in the moonlight below.

Our chairs were close and Stjarna took her shoes off, leaned back, and propped her feet up on my lap. She began reading her new book on Muspelheim by torchlight and would occasionally comment to me on it as I gently rubbed her feet, surely sore from all the walking we had done today.

“Loki, do you know who the king of Muspelheim is?”

“Surtur,” I answered, affectionately kneading the ball of her foot.

“Yes, and his wife is Sinmara.”

“I have never heard of Sinmara.”

“Yes, they rule there together.”

“Muspelheim sounds terrible,” I remarked, shaking my head. “I think I would rather rule in Niflheim than Muspelheim.”

“The realm of ice?” Stjarna asked in surprise. “There is nothing there.”

I shrugged. “I would rather be cold than hot.”

Stjarna laughed, and we passed a pleasant evening sitting there, talking and observing the street below. When Stjarna at last began to grow drowsy, we went back inside.

I sat down on the edge of the bed to take my boots off and glanced up to see Stjarna standing by the little table in the corner. Her form was half-illuminated by the candle on the table, and I watched as she carefully placed her book down with the others she had bought today and began to leisurely unbraid her long hair.

I smiled when Stjarna began quietly humming to herself, running her fingers slowly through her hair. After a while, I stood up and went towards her, causing her to turn when she caught sight of my shadow flickering on the wall. Just as Stjarna opened her mouth to speak, I cupped her face, leaned down, and swallowed whatever her next words might have been with a kiss. It was not a passionate kiss, but deep and languid, and I pushed her back until she hit the wall.

“Loki,” Stjarna mumbled when I finally broke the kiss, and she blinked and looked up at me.

“I know, I know,” I breathed, resting my forehead against hers. “I just wanted to kiss you.”

“Why?” she queried smilingly, gazing up at me.

“Because I can.”

She laughed softly and tilted her head back against the wall.

“Thank you for taking me out today, Loki.”

“It was my pleasure,” I murmured, lowering my head to lightly kiss her lips.

Stjarna lifted her head to meet my lips and lightly fisted the front edges of my surcoat in her hands. I deepened the kiss, languorously exploring her mouth, tasting the spiced wine from downstairs lingering still upon her tongue, and pushed my fingers into her hair, further loosening her now messy braid. Stjarna let slip a faint moan into my mouth and pulled me closer, subtly pushing her hips forward against me.

When I finally broke the kiss and pulled back to regard her, she sucked on her bottom lip and I saw with pleasure her eyes glassy with desire. I stroked her cheek with my thumb, feeling it flushed.

“I want you,” she whispered, causing me to grin as she slipped her arms under my surcoat and wrapped them around me.

“Do you want to?” I inquired, not goading or condescending.

“Yes, but…”

“But what?” I breathed, tilting her head up and lightly kissing her lips and then her chin. Though we were only kissing, I could already discern the beginnings of lust stirring in me. Any kind of touching now—sometimes only if she looked at me in a certain way—aroused me, it had been so long since we’d done anything.

“I don’t know…”

“It will be our little secret,” I continued, lowering my head to pepper indolent kisses up and down the side of her neck. “In the morning we can pretend it never happened.”

Stjarna laughed softly, but then truly appeared to be thinking it over. Hope rose inside me, but moments later the feeling was dashed when she shook her head.

“I will be disappointed if we give in so soon.”

“So soon?!”

Stjarna giggled and lifted up on her tiptoes to kiss me.

“Come, Loki. Let’s go to bed.”

She took my hand in hers and led me to the bed. We slipped beneath the covers and Stjarna nestled against me, forgetting to even finish unbraiding her hair. Though I was somewhat frustrated, eventually sleep claimed me and we drifted off to the muffled sounds of the street below.

__

The next morning Stjarna and I rode back up to the palace and resumed our normal duties. More days passed and our little competition of abstinence dragged torturously on.

I had never willingly—or somewhat willingly—gone so long without sex, and eventually it was literally all I could think of. In the mornings I imagined bending Stjarna over the breakfast table; during my lessons I fantasized about fucking her up against Master Hauknefr’s dusty old bookshelves; during training, during the afternoon feasts when I caught fleeting glimpses of her at the handmaiden’s table, at night when she came to my chambers and I could touch her but at the same time I couldn’t—everywhere, all the time, it was all I could think about and it was driving me absolutely insane.

Finally, I decided it was time to end this. I would attempt to conclude this maddening agreement of ours and push her right to the edge.

That night after dinner, Stjarna and I were lying on my bed. She was sitting up against the pillows and reading her new book on Muspelheim. By now she was almost finished with the book, and I was just watching her, rolled onto my side, head propped up on my arm.

“Do you like your new book?” I inquired.

“Yes,” she replied absently.

“Oh, good.”

Silence.

She turned a page, softly sighed.

I slowly reached over and languidly trailed my fingers down her arm. Stjarna did not react—only smiled when I leaned over and pressed my nose to her arm, and then my lips.

“What are you doing, Loki?” she questioned without looking at me, as if she did not already know.

“Nothing.”

“Oh? Because it feels like you are about to lose the wager.”

“Not at all,” I responded, glancing up at her. “I do want you, but I can refrain myself.”

“Can you?” she whispered, arching an eyebrow. “Then what is happening now?”

I shrugged, still kissing her. “I am bored.”

She laughed, unconvinced, and slowly closed her book.

“Loki, you know you can only say the words and I am yours.”

So different from that night at the inn, when she had seriously considered it, almost melted in my arms. Now she was back to teasing me.

“No,” I breathed, lifting up to press a tender kiss to her shoulder, where her nightgown was beginning to slip. “I can hold off.”

“Then why are you kissing me?”

“Because I want to,” I answered, and I took the book from her and reached over to set it on the bedside table. Stjarna fought a grin as I pulled her into my arms, straddled her waist, and trailed my open hand down her side to the curve of her hip.

“Ah, ah, Loki—”

“I don’t lose unless we have sex.”

Stjarna appeared skeptical as I lowered my head and kissed her.

“Well, you’re pushing it.”

I smirked, kissing her again. “Am I not allowed to imagine?”

“You’ve been imagining in the bath chamber every other morning, though,” she giggled, and I pressed my lips together in annoyance.

“Well, I wouldn’t have to if we hadn’t sworn off sex.”

“I suppose that’s true,” she grinned.

“Anyway, I was thinking of you today,” I murmured.

“Were you?” she asked shrewdly. “Pray tell.”

“I imagined taking you on the table.”

“Mmm…”

“And against the wall…”

“Yes…”

“And on the floor…”

Stjarna grinned. “That sounds exhausting.”

“And yet somehow you found it in yourself to keep going,” I smirked.

“I will, if you really want me to,” she breathed, and merely the change in her tone—lower now, brimming with lust—was enough to get the blood flowing. She put her hand on my cheek, stroked my skin with her thumb. “On the table, against the wall, on the floor… anything you want, Loki…”

Heat coursed through me, fire and desire and lust and everything else I had been attempting to tamp down these past weeks, and gods, I needed her—I needed to rip that flimsy little nightgown off and make good on all I had just alluded to, but I had come too far now to give in, I couldn’t do it, not yet, not yet…

“Don’t you want it, too?” I pressed, trying not to sound too desperate, caressing her skin with my parted lips. “Don’t you want me to kiss you? Don’t you want me to touch you?”

“Yes,” she admitted, and I grinned triumphantly. “But I can wait.”

Immediately my smile fell, and I gritted my teeth, realizing with a pang I had failed. I groaned in frustration before rolling off of Stjarna and onto my back, and she—I think genuinely surprised—lifted up on her arms. I raked my fingers exasperatedly through my hair as she gazed down at me, head tilted to the side, an arrogant little smile plastered across her face.

“I suspect you won’t be long now.”

“What do you mean?” I grumbled.

“Oh, please,” she laughed. “You’re so close to giving it up I can tasteit.”

I stared at her for a long moment, taking in her haughty expression, and something rose up within me and faster than she could even see, Stjarna was on her back again and I lying halfway on top of her, straddling her leg and pinning her wrists to the bed. My face was only inches from hers and her smile instantly faded.

“You were saying?” I growled.

“Is this you conceding defeat?” she wondered quietly, finding her voice again, though nowhere near as supercilious as before.

“Not quite,” I whispered, searching her eyes. “I only want to tell you what I’m going to do to you when this is all over.”

The corner of her lips twitched, and still she stared wide-eyed up at me.

“You’re going to be begging me to fuck you by the end,” I murmured darkly, and she chuckled softly, nervously. “And when you finally yield to me, I’m not just going to fuck you, Stjarna, I’m going to drag it out as punishment for teasing me and forcing me to endure this.”

I could feel her breaths coming a little quicker, though she tried to hide it.

“I’m going to pin your arms down like this,” I said, lowering my head to lightly kiss her parted lips. “Maybe bind you with my magic so you can’t move… kiss down your body, between your legs, use my tongue until you’re dripping for me, and slide my fingers inside.”

I grinned wickedly as Stjarna let out a gentle breath, eyes wavering not once from mine, no laughter now as her cheeks flushed that deep, beautiful rosy pink.

“And just when you’re about to come, when your body is shaking and you’re whimpering my name, beggingme to finish you,” I whispered luridly, knowing she could feel me hard against her stomach, “I’ll make sure you don’t come.”

Now I lowered my head, lightly scraped my teeth across her skin, felt with pleasure her elevated pulse on my lips.

“I’m going to let you come down, and then I’m going to do it again, and again, and again…”

Stjarna subtly squeezed her legs on mine and I lifted up, released her hand but caught both her wrists with my other, and reached down to lightly brush my fingers over her breast. She expulsed a heavy breath, nipple hardening under my fleeting touch, and shifted restlessly beneath me.

“And then I’m going to slide inside you, fuck you slow and deep, until you’re screaming because you can’t take any more…”

I lowered my head and began languidly kissing the side of her neck, meanwhile tracing lazy circles over her skin, gradually making my way down over her belly until I discerned those golden curls separated only by the thin fabric of her gown.

“Until you’re begging me to fuck you harder and harder…”

Stjarna’s breathing became audibly more ragged as I kissed and languidly sucked at her skin, wanting to make a mark, feeling a surge of victory—and lust—when she slightly arched her back beneath me, tilted her head to the side and let slip a telling little moan.

Heat flared inside, my own breaths coming heavier, and I knew she was going to give in to me. Not that making love to her would be so terrible, necessarily, and I readied eagerly for her acquiescence.

When I finally allowed my fingers to slip between her legs—admittedly, I was pushing the boundaries of our agreement—Stjarna gasped and stiffened beneath me. I grinned against her skin when I felt how unbelievably wet she was; the diaphanous fabric bunched between her legs was already soaking, and I could smell the heady fragrance of her desire hanging deliciously in the warm air.

Before I could push my luck further, though, Stjarna suddenly came back to life. She squirmed beneath me and I released her wrists, surprised as she used her seidr—because otherwise she was not strong enough—and pushed at me roughly until I was on my back.

She straddled my waist and I grabbed her hips, this exhilarating mix of pride and lust surging through me that I had won, but just as I lifted up to kiss her, to give in to this desire that had been simmering unbearably inside me for the past month, Stjarna put her hand on my chest.

“Stjarna—”

“Two can play at this game,” she whispered sultrily, and I pressed my lips together in irritation. She leaned down, smiling lips inches from mine. “What if it was you who begged me?”

“Impossible,” I dismissed, upset at this sudden and displeasing turn of events. “I do not beg.”

Stjarna laughed softly and sat up straight, hands splayed on my stomach. My eyes drifted down to her breasts, where I could just see her nipples hard through her nightgown, and I cursed to myself.

“So I suppose you’ve forgotten a month ago when you were practically sobbing for me to finish you?”

“Sobbing?” I snorted, eyes flickering back up to hers. “I don’t quite remember it like that.”

“What? You don’t remember the way you were begging me not to stop? ‘Don’t stop, Stjarna, don’t stop…’”

I scoffed at her impression of me and she laughed again.

“Oh, please. You love it when I do that…”

“Do what?” I asked smartly, as she slowly lowered herself onto me, thick blonde hair tumbling over her shoulders.

“When I use my tongue on you,” she breathed, moving down to kiss my chest, and I smirked.

“I’ll admit I do not mind it.”

She laughed quietly, knowingly, lips brushing enticingly against my skin.

“I like watching you just as much as you like watching me,” she confessed, and glanced up at me from under her brows. “I like the way you close your eyes and tilt your head back when I touch you…”

Her just talking about it was further arousing me, and much to my chagrin she could feel it. Stjarna grinned against my chest, and my heart began to beat a little faster when she began making her way slowly down my body—something I had not anticipated.

“I like touching you,” she admitted in a whisper, pausing at my navel. “I like the sounds you make, especially when I take you in my mouth.”

I exhaled slowly when she began languorously kissing down lower, parted lips grazing the thin trail of hair winding down to disappear into the top of my pants. Down lower, muscles tightening in my abdomen in anticipation, and then her lips brushed against my hardness. Though there was a layer of leather to separate her lips from my aching cock, a jolt skittered fiercely through me and I knew immediately we had to stop or I might not be able to help myself.

Abruptly I sat up, grabbed Stjarna’s chin, and lifted her head. She gazed up at me, waiting patiently for me to say the words.

“That’s enough,” I said, unable to mask the faint hoarseness in my voice.

Stjarna’s expression fell slightly—those had not been the words she had wished to hear. She sat up and raised her eyebrows, almost innocently.

“What is it, Loki?”

“We have to sleep.”

Yes, I had failed. Miserably.

“Oh, but we don’t,” she murmured alluringly, leaning forward to bury her face between my neck and shoulder. She began kissing me and I closed my eyes and pressed my lips to the top of her shoulder. I relished the feel of her pressed against me like this, the brief wetness of her tongue upon my skin, wanted so desperately to give in.

Would it truly have been so bad? Would it have been such a terrible loss? I imagined sliding inside her, sheathed in her heat, feeling her body so warm and pliant beneath me, hear her panting my name, crying out.

Gods, I wanted her.

“Are you giving up?” I wondered, lightly biting the top of her shoulder, hoping to the gods.

“Not at all,” she replied breathily, nipping playfully at my earlobe. “I just know how much you want me.”

And then her fingers brushed over my cock—with some pressure now—through my pants and I flinched at her touch.

“In fact, I know you want me…”

And she giggled as I put my hands on her and pushed her back.

“We need to go to bed,” I said flatly.

“Are you going to take care of that?” she smirked, eyes flickering down to the spot between my legs.

“It will go away,” I muttered resentfully.

Stjarna laughed, pushed my arms out of the way, and wrapped her arms around me. She pulled me down onto the bed with her and nuzzled affectionately against me.

“What are you doing?” I asked suspiciously, suspecting she was still attempting to get me to crack.

“I know we’re trying not to have sex,” she mumbled, “but I still want to touch you. I hope you do not mind?”

“No…”

Stjarna smiled and nestled closer against me, sighing, and I acquiesced. I was frustrated, but kept repeating this fraught litany over and over in my head, soon, soon, soon…

__

It had been over a month now, and I was going mad.

My only consolation was that I knew Stjarna was suffering just as much as me. I often caught her staring at me and could sense her want, but unfortunately she did not give in and neither did I.

And so I was quite relieved when it came time for the largest annual hunt held in Asgard. All of the higher gods participated, including Father, and there was to be a huge banquet held that night. Typically I disliked hunting, for there were far more interesting things to do than track beasts through the underbrush drenched in sweat and dirt, but this year I was looking forward to it. My interest had been piqued, of course, only within the past couple of weeks and I suspected it was because I was itching to release some energy.

That morning I left Stjarna in the bed with only a parting kiss, and Thor and I and the rest of them, including Baldr and Týr and Frey and Njord, geared up and rode off to the forest. It was an all-day event, and I found myself quite invested in the venture, and by some miracle by the end of the day, it was I who had felled the most, and largest, beasts.

Many of the others were surprised and begrudged I had bested them all, and Thor was particularly amused. I had told him a couple of weeks before of my and Stjarna’s little wager and he had found it incredibly amusing and was impressed I had gone so long without sex. Afterwards he blamed that for my winning and said if he had willingly gone over a month without sex he likely would have won, too.

That afternoon our party returned to the palace, wagons loaded with our kills trailing behind. Servants rushed to take our weary horses and to hurry the meat to the kitchens for preparation.

The banquet planned for that night would be beyond illustrious, for it was one of the most magnificent celebrations held in Asgard. The great hall was splendidly decorated and would host an especially large feast that would last long into the night, followed by dancing and much drunken revelry. Father would announce me as the one who had felled the most beasts, and that we would be feasting upon many of my own kills. To say I was eagerly anticipating the banquet—and putting to shame the prowess of Baldr and Týr and all those other idiots—was a colossal understatement.

Before I could attend the banquet, however, I would have to bathe, for I reeked of stale sweat and dirt and three different kinds of blood.

I made my way to my chambers, aching all over now that the adrenaline had faded and left me to experience each hard bump and fall today with every step. Upon reaching my rooms, I shut the door gratefully behind me and expulsed a heavy sigh.

I had only begun unlacing my leather vest, crusted in blood and dirt, when the door opened behind me. I turned, surprised to see Stjarna there with a big smile plastered across her face.

“Stjarna, what are you—”

But then her eyes fell down, took in the blood and bruises painted across my skin, and her jaw dropped.

“Loki!” she cried, rushing forward, concern etched upon her face. “Are you alright?”

“Yes,” I said, catching her hands when she went to inspect my neck, which had blood splattered across it. “I am fine.”

“Why do you look so terrible?”

“Er, thank you for that,” I chuckled. “I always look like this after a hunt.”

“No, you don’t,” she insisted, eyes worriedly scanning the rest of me. “Not like this.”

After a moment, I suspected she was right, since usually I did not elect to take such an active role in the hunting. This year, however, I had been itching to let some of my pent up energy out.

“Did you not hear?” I asked, holding her wrists so she would stop prodding at me.

Her pale grey eyes flickered up to mine. “Hear what?”

“I am the champion of the hunt, Stjarna. I put the rest of them to shame!”

She smiled, finally realizing I was not hurt in any way.

“You seem terribly pleased with yourself.”

“I am, and you should be, too.”

She furrowed her brows. “Why?”

“Because it is all your fault.”

“What?”

“How else was I supposed to spend my energy?”

Stjarna laughed loudly at that, realizing my meaning.

“Well, perhaps you ought to bathe now, the banquet will begin soon.”

“Yes, I see you’re already ready.”

Stjarna was dressed in a sleeveless, trailing pale pink gown, which elegantly draped her body and emphasized her curves. In her hair she wore a delicate headband of beaten gold flowers and on her upper arm a winding arm band in the shape of a snake I had gifted her many, many years ago, and that I had not seen in a while.

I reached out to trail my fingers down her arm, only marveling her.

“You are so beautiful,” I finally said.

“You say that every time, Loki,” she observed laughingly.

“Only because it is true,” I affirmed, pulling her towards me, careful not to let my front touch and soil her gown.

Her cheeks flushed, which made me smirk, and she glanced away, trying to hide her own smile.

I tilted my head. “Why are you here?”

Now she hesitated.

“I… I came to ask if you wished me to accompany you tonight.”

I raised my eyebrows. So that was why she had dressed up more so than usual.

I slowly smiled. “I have not won our wager, though.”

“No, but… neither have I. I was thinking about it and… you have long wished me to accompany you. It has been long enough.”

My smile grew.

“Thank you, Stjarna,” I murmured, kissing her, and then sighing dramatically. “I suppose this means I must have dinner with Mother and Thor.”

She lifted up on her toes to peck my lips. “It would be the chivalrous thing to do.”

I sighed again in acquiescence.

“You should probably bathe first, though,” Stjarna giggled, and I pulled back, realizing I had almost smeared myself on her dress.

“Ah, yes, that’s probably a good idea,” I agreed, releasing her. I turned to head to my bed chamber and Stjarna followed. I untied my leather vest, caked in dirt and blood, and dropped it onto the floor.

“Loki!” Stjarna snapped.

“What? They’ll get it in the morning.”

She made a sound of disgust and rolled her eyes as I went into my bath chamber.

My tunic was practically stuck to my skin, so I reached up, grabbed the back of my collar, and pulled it off. I draped it over a stool by the wall and bent down to unlace the top of my boots.

And then, suddenly, I stopped. I slowly looked up at Stjarna, who was leaning in the doorway, arms folded over her chest, watching me.

“Wait a moment.”

A smirk slowly spread across her face.

“The wager is done.”

The corner of her lips twitched. “I suppose it is.”

“So what does that mean?”

“What do you think it means?”

I straightened, could already feel the heat curling in my lower half.

It meant I was about four seconds away from ripping that pretty dress off of her.

Stjarna seemed to sense my train of thought, and when I took a step towards her she flinched, smile melting away, and took one back.

“Now Loki, we still have to go to the banquet, it will start soon—”

“Damn the banquet,” I dismissed.

“There will be plenty of time afterwards—”

“I don’t care.”

I stopped and so did she, both of us tensed. I was smiling toothlessly, eyes fixed rapaciously on hers—and then I pounced. Stjarna, anticipating it, turned and managed to slip just out of my reach. She was running across my bedchamber, pale pink dress billowing out behind her, laughing loudly. Stjarna did not get far, however—I grabbed the back of her belt, causing her to gasp and falter, and reached forward to wrap my arm tightly around her waist. Stjarna squealed in breathless delight as I hauled her backwards and turned her effortlessly in my arms.

Within seconds she was pinned helplessly against the wall, breathing hard. Desire kindled inside me, winding down to curl hotly in the pit of my stomach.

Stjarna went to protest, but before she could even get a word out, I lowered my head to engulf her mouth in a bruising kiss. I placed one hand possessively on her hip, wound it around to grab her arse and pulled her close. I braced my other arm on the wall behind her, taking pleasure in the way her body softened against mine.

When I broke the kiss to take a breath, Stjarna attempted once more to refute me, though her voice was quiet now and only in half-hearted protest.

“Loki, you’ve ruined my dress—”

“I’ll have you a dozen more made,” I growled, kissing her again, and this time she wisely realized I wasn’t going to the banquet and neither was she and she responded just as vehemently. Stjarna pushed her tongue past my teeth, lifting up on her tiptoes to deepen the kiss. It was sloppy and hungry, evincing our shared desperation.

I moved my hand from the wall, grabbed the strap of her gown, and pulled it roughly down over her shoulder. Stjarna sucked in a breath when I broke the kiss and pressed my lips to the top of her shoulder, tugged her dress down even farther until her breast was exposed.

Stjarna moaned softly and tilted her head back as I cupped her breast and squeezed it, supple skin filling my hand, nipple burgeoning eagerly to my touch. I ran my thumb over her pebbling flesh, lightly pinching her nipple and coaxing a breathy gasp from her lips.

I bent my knees, lowering my head to trail wet, openmouthed kisses over her flushed chest, until I took her nipple into my mouth. Stjarna breathed my name, arching her back and reaching up to tangle her fingers in my hair. I flicked my tongue across her sensitive flesh, hearing her breaths come more heavily, nibbled and sucked at her skin until it became pink and tender.

With my other hand I tugged her other strap down, until both of Stjarna’s breasts were exposed, and switched sides shortly before falling to my knees in front of her, unable to wait any longer. Stjarna gazed down at me, eyes heavy with desire, lips parted in silent entreaty.

I lustfully regarded her, smirking impishly as I leaned forward and kissed her belly, then lower. Stjarna sighed my name as I kissed her through her gown. Nuzzling between her legs, I slipped my hand beneath the hem of her dress and ran my splayed fingers up the backs of her calves, her thighs, until her dress was gathered in my hands at her waist and she was bared to me.

Anticipation was churning deliciously in the pit of my stomach as I leaned forward and kissed Stjarna, almost reverentially, pulling her lower half closer to me. The scent of her filling my nose, heady and intoxicating, as I skimmed my nose down through the delicate curls. I hooked one leg under hers, dying to taste her, dying to hear my name falling from her lips, and hiked it up so it was over my shoulder, and Stjarna was supported on one leg and leaning against the wall.

Stjarna tilted her head back, breath catching in her throat when I ran my tongue languidly through her folds, unable to wait or tease, savoring the desire already pooled there. I pleasured her slowly, fingers digging into the tender flesh of her white thighs; her little breaths and soft gasps were music to my ears, encouraging me, and I took that little bud between my lips, coaxing a halting moan from her throat.

She was squirming slightly against the wall, keening in breathless delight, and moaned again when I reached over the top of her leg and placed my hand at the top of her sex. I lowered my face, sliding my tongue slowly across her opening, and simultaneously began caressing that little pearl with my thumb.

Stjarna gripped my hair a little tighter, breaths coming faster. I was already hard, aching to be inside her, but hearing her voice her pleasure, feeling her straining against me, was too good to stop. I increased the pressure of my fingers, scraped my teeth across her sensitive skin, and grinned wolfishly when she almost sobbed my name

Title: Stjarnavetr

Chapter: Part II – Chapter 36

Author:renlem

Character: Loki

Genre: Angst, Erotica, Drama, Romance, Tragedy

Overall Rating: Mature (for strong language, strong sexual content, and strong graphic violence)

Summary of Part II: Things have gone well for Loki and Stjarnavetr these past five centuries, but it cannot remain so. When Loki unexpectedly betrays those closest to him, Stjarnavetr’s world falls apart. Painful secrets and dark pasts will come to light, love will be tried to the breaking point, and Stjarnavetr must come to terms with the fact that the man she loves is not the man she thought she knew. Through it all, both Loki and Stjarnavetr will come to realize just how far they will go for one another and the sacrifices they will make, no matter the cost.

Chapter warnings/triggers: Language, Sexual Content

Table of Contents

Part I: 1|2|3|4|5|6|7|8|9|10|11|12|13|14|15|16|17|18|19|20|21|22|23|24|25|26|27|28|29|30|31|32|33|34|35|36|37|38|39|40|41|42|43|44|45|46|47|48|49|50|Epilogue

Part II: 1|2|3|4|5|6|7|8|9|10|11|12|13|14|15|16|17|18|19|20|21|22|23|24|25|26|27|28|29|30|31|32|33|34|35

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Part II – Chapter 36

Loki

Helheim

She was just as I remembered, and more; darkness beneath her black eyes set in a bone white mask, tinged now with that eerie grey-blue worn by all the dead, and framed in a wild mane of fiery red hair. She smiled, revealing pointed teeth, and a jolt went through me.

“Loki,” Angrboda said, and her voice—dark and alluring, deadly and promising—stirred something deep within me. Potent memories long buried even when I had been alive, clawing their way back to the surface, tearing through this wall of fog still permeating my mind.

My lips parted, but I did not utter her name, could not tear my eyes from hers. I could not believe she was here, standing so real before me.

Her smile widened.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” she remarked cynically, coming closer.

My gaze drifted down as she raised her hand and reached out to gently touch my chest. I stiffened, felt it through my entire body as the memories came flooding painfully back, the heat that bloomed like fire inside me. I stumbled backwards, astonished by the sudden surge of feeling, and Angrboda’s hand lingered in the air for only a moment before falling back down to her side.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Hel slowly circling around, encompassing us in that rotting stench that seemed to envelop her like a cloud.

“How did he die?” Angrboda inquired, addressing Hel—our daughter, I recalled with a pang—without looking.

“A Van shoved a blade through his chest.”

Angrboda quirked a slim red eyebrow, as if she was amused I had gone in such a way.

“I imagine there was a lot of blood…”

I glimpsed her smiling mouth—those sharp teeth behind pallid lips—and distinctly remembered kissing them, biting them, drawing blood from them as red as her hair. I could almost feel them upon my body again, the ghosting of her fingers across my skin, nails digging, teeth scraping their way lower and lower.

When my gaze flickered back up to Angrboda’s, the look in her eyes almost made me believe she knew exactly what I was thinking.

Hel stood still now, scrutinizing us, but I had had enough.

I turned my head towards my daughter, lips pressed tightly together.

“I will be in my chambers if you need me.”

And I glanced disdainfully once more at Angrboda, only fleetingly, before turning on my heel to leave.

Back in my chambers, I sat on the edge of my bed, hands hanging between my legs, eyes trained despairingly on the floor.

Inside me was absolute chaos—seeing Angrboda had brought it all back, despite the issues I had been having regarding seemingly everything else before I had simply appeared out there in that barren wasteland. I had no problem abruptly recalling every individual, painful, pleasurable detail of the night we had shared in Utgard when I was just a boy, something even in life I had attempted to quash, and now made all the more vivid by her sudden appearance. Feelings resurfacing I thought I had long ago tamped down, anger and bitter resentment, and something else I did not care to acknowledge.

Questions raced through my strained mind, about her, about afterwards when I had gone from Utgard, and the children that had only recently been revealed to me. Though part of me was repelled, there was a smaller, more treacherous part that wished desperately to speak with her, to be close to her despite my aversion. I could not deny what it was I had felt when she had touched me—not entirely disgust, tainted instead with something else, something dark and visceral.

I shook my head and rubbed my eyes, knowing not whether to be more bewildered or disgusted. I did not understand how I could be affected this strongly upon just seeing her—merely hearing her voice—though I certainly was no stranger to the conflicting emotions churning biliously inside me.

Finally, though, my thoughts were interrupted by a dull, prolonged knocking. I got up, grimacing for my splitting headache, and went into my main room and threw open the door.

It was that woman I had seen before, one of Hel’s servants—Ganglot.

“My lord, dinner is prepared. The queen requests your company.”

“Yes, I will be there,” I snapped, slamming the door in her face, though judging by her deadened expression I doubt she minded one way or the other.

__

Dinner was a bleak affair, but at least it helped to distract from the tumult raging inside me.

The great hall of Eljudnir was huge, with a towering ceiling and mottled stone walls hung with tattered black banners. The room was lined with long tables, filled with those of Hel’s court, and at the front upon a dais sat the high table, where Hel sat with her mother and a handful of well-dressed dead. I could feel their eyes on me—especially the penetrating gaze of one with fiery red hair—while a slow-moving servant directed me to the empty seat on Hel’s right.

I silently sat down, ignoring the stares from those sitting across the table. Hel did not say anything as more servants came out and began serving the food. I examined our meal as it was laid out, surprised it seemed no different from something I may have eaten in my past life.

Steaming meats—though I could not determine what animal they might have come from, and was not sure I wished to know—with soups and breads.

As the servants finished setting everything out, Hel introduced me to those at the table.

“My lords,” she announced. “I am pleased to introduce my father, Loki of Jötunheim.”

The nine men at the table inclined their heads.

“Jötunheim, eh?” one with a long, tangled beard grunted, and he squinted curiously at Angrboda, who was thankfully seated on Hel’s other side. “You don’t look like the queen’s mother, nor one of those red-eyed brutes they share the realm with.”

“A spell was cast over me when I was but a child,” I answered after a pause, somewhat coolly. “Therefore I do not take the appearance of my race.”

He nodded and Hel smirked.

“Father, this is Atganga.”

I gave a slight incline of my head. I already did not like him.

“These are the nine ambassadors of my realm, and my advisors. They are the voice of my people.”

Hel introduced them one by one and informed me I would soon be getting to know them better. After a time, she began speaking with a particularly ancient-looking one called Svarforn, leaving me to my own thoughts.

I stared down at the food as they conversed, still had not eaten anything—only drank some wine, which tasted surprisingly good, if not slightly musty—when one loudly commented on the fact.

“Is the queen’s father not famished?”

I glanced up. They were all studying me.

“Er…”

“He wonders how we eat,” one called Stokkr observed laughingly, stuffing a large chunk of meat past his thin lips and paying no heed to the juice running in rivulets down into his beard.

“It did cross my mind,” I replied.

“I told you that death is simply the other side of life,” Hel said in that gritty voice of hers. “The dead eat and drink and carouse just as they did in life.”

“It is like your breath,” one of the representatives added. “Your heart does not beat, yet you breathe. An annoying habit left over from life that none of us seem to want to give up. It is a comforting illusion, even after all this time.”

“How long is that?” I wondered.

None of them responded, strangely, and I regarded Hel.

“Time does not pass here as it did when you were alive,” she remarked nonchalantly, taking a draught of wine. “It is of no importance and you need not concern yourself with it.”

Sensing it was not a subject widely spoken of here, I dropped the matter, though it did not lessen my curiosity. Dinner continued and I listened to the talk going on around me, absorbing what was said, picking up on what was normal here. In truth, everything seemed similar to how it had been in Asgard, in terms of realm business and issues—only that everybody was dead.

When the feast ended, Hel leaned over and asked quietly if I would see her in her chambers later, for there were matters she wished to discuss with me. She departed after being bowed to by everybody in the room and then the hall began to gradually empty. I made sure to avoid Angrboda and as I was going to leave, a couple of the advisors caught me and wished to speak with me, mostly about what I thought so far of their realm and assuring me how I would soon become used to everything.

Afterwards, I inquired of a servant how to get to Hel’s chambers from the great hall and made it there without much trouble.

The doors to Hel’s quarters were huge and secured by two hulking, expressionless guards, both holding massive, rust-tipped spears. Before I could explain my arrival, one silently opened the door but did not announce me as I entered.

Hel’s receiving chamber was at least three times the size of mine, bathed in a warm light from an impressively large fireplace, and it was obvious at first glance that she liked the color red. Her chambers, surprisingly, exuded comfort, with cushioned chairs and thick fur rugs. Her mantelpiece was adorned with grisly ornaments, however—including a begrimed skull with a spike driven through its forehead—and the tapestries that hung from her walls were even more gruesome in nature. My daughter clearly had an affinity for the macabre.

Hel was seated at a desk against the far wall, studying some papers. A thick candle burned by her gloved hand, illuminating the hollows of her cheeks and emphasizing the gauntness of her sallow face. I could already smell her and wondered if I should ever become used to it.

She turned to look when the door was shut behind me, but before she could speak, a sudden movement caught my eye and I exclaimed when a great force slammed brutally into me, knocking the breath from my lungs, and throwing me violently onto my back and pinning me to the floor.

I blinked, not quite believing my eyes: a great dog loomed ominously over me, massive head lowered so its snout was merely inches from my face. Its quivering lips, crusted with what appeared to be dried, blackened blood, were pulled back in a savage snarl, revealing rows of evil, yellow teeth. Its eyes were dull black orbs and the reflecting firelight seemed to ignite within them a hellish red glow.

It growled at me, a sick, gurgling rumbling from deep within its throat, and its hot breath reeked of putrefaction and I almost choked.

“Garm!” Hel snapped, jumping to her feet.

The dog ducked its head and peeked almost guiltily at her. She glared at it, hands on her hips, and I closed my eyes and stiffened when it turned back to me, opened its foul-smelling maw, and with its long, flat tongue, licked up the entirety of my face, and then trotted away.

I sat up and gagged, felt the rancid saliva burning my skin, and quickly wiped my face with my sleeve. When I opened my eyes, breaths coming rapidly in my shock, Hel giggled.

“Be glad he likes you.”

“What the fuck is that?”

“That is Garm,” Hel answered as the dog, which stood nearly up to my chest, and whose thick body rippled imposingly with muscle, padded over to her and settled lithely next to her feet, setting his heavy head on the hem of her skirts. “A gift from Grandfather, to make my banishment here easier.”

I thought it odd she referred to Odin as her grandfather, even though she nor I were related to him by blood.

Hel bent down to pat the dog’s bulky head.

“Garm’s caught some of them trying to leave.”

“What?”

“The dead,” Hel clarified, grinning when Garm yawned. “Sometimes they try to go back across the river Gjöll. If they get past Módgud, which rarely happens, Garm brings them back, though never in one piece.”

“People try to leave?”

“Yes,” she sighed, sitting back up. “They yearn to be alive again.”

Her comment about Garm bringing them back in multiple pieces puzzled me. Surely they could not continue on in such an unfortunate state.

“Can you die here?”

Hel was silent for a moment, carefully thinking over her reply.

“Yes,” she finally admitted, motioning for me to sit in a chair next to her desk. “While what exists here is a manifestation of your soul, it is still very physical. You can still be injured, and you can still die, but unlike when you were alive, there is nothing after your second death.”

“So why do they cross the river again?” I asked, sitting down and glancing warily at Garm. “It is not as if they can be brought back to life.”

Hel’s expression faltered and I sensed a change in her.

“Can they?” I insisted, leaning forward, but she pressed her lips together.

“I did not call you here to discuss life and death,” she stated firmly. “I wished to inquire something of you.”

I glared at her, frustrated, but there was no use in pressing the matter. If she was as stubborn as her mother and I put together, there was no hope.

“What is it?” I asked, though not politely.

Now, astonishingly, Hel appeared slightly nervous.

“I was hoping, now that you’re here, you might play a considerable role in my court. If it pleases you, of course.”

I shifted in my seat. “Why?”

“It would please me greatly,” she responded. “And… I do feel that I would be able to trust you above the others.”

That genuinely surprised me, since I’m sure she was more than aware of my proclivity for dishonesty in my previous life. I was still attempting to become accustomed to what was going on around me, however, and neglected to give her a definitive answer.

“Why would you trust me above the others?” I inquired suspiciously.

“Because you are my father and there is no one here you are loyal to.”

Hearing her say it—that I was her father—unnerved me for some reason. Even now, I was still trying to wrap my head around the fact that I had children, and that one of them ruled the realm of the dead.

“I must confess, Father, I was pleased when you finally died.”

I cocked an eyebrow. “Oh, were you?”

She giggled, though it sounded more like a deep, hacking cough.

“Yes. I really have only heard small details from Grandfather and Mother, but long wished to meet you myself.”

A coldness spread through me.

“What did she tell you?”

“Only what you looked like. How arrogant you are, though I have not yet seen it.”

I pressed my lips together. “I hope that’s all she told you.”

Hel laughed—a rough, guttural sound, causing the hairs to stand up on the back of my neck—and rose from her chair, stirring the putrescent air around her.

“You may think on my offer,” she said. “I do hope you will accept.”

“I will consider it.”

She grinned. “Thank you, Father. You may go.”

I nodded and also rose, feeling odd.

I walked unhurriedly back to my own chambers, ruminating on Hel’s offer and wondering sullenly what Angrboda had told our daughter about me. I only vaguely remembered the way to my chambers and meandered along, distracted by my own thoughts.

Halfway there, I passed a large open doorway connecting to the corridor. I backtracked, curious, and found that it led out to what appeared to be a garden, which astounded me. I wondered how anything could grow here without a sun, but quickly deemed it not an ordinary garden.

The sky was not entirely dark, but still casting an eerie, wan light, and I could easily see. Hel would later explain to me that her realm was not open to any sky, save for a small patch where Niflheim, the frozen realm above this one, ended, and it was by her own magical will that one could discern the day from the night.

I wandered leisurely around. The plants did not appear healthy and the air smelled of sickly sweet rot; many were shriveled or blackened or covered in some sort of mold or oily film. Broken stone statues dotted the garden, strangled by roaming tendrils. There were many trees laden with dark fruit, and waning flowers adorning the leaf-laden walls.

Feeling a sense of unease, partially because it was so disconcertingly quiet, I turned to leave, but stopped suddenly.

Across the garden, half hidden by a drooping bundle of leaves, stood Angrboda.

She was facing mostly away from me and cradling a wilted rose in her hand, hanging precariously on the wall. She appeared to be studying it, running her thumb lightly across its withered petals.

I stood still, only watching her, and eventually moved a little closer, for some inexplicable reason wanting to see more of her.

Angrboda was dressed differently from earlier, more simply now, in a plain brown dress cinched at the waist with a leather belt. Her coarse red hair was pulled back with a leather thong, but still cascaded wildly down past her waist, and without wanting to, I could unexpectedly remember fisting it in my hands, a fiery red halo glowing in the dark above me.

My eyes traveled slowly down her body, lingering on the curves of her hips prominent through the thick fabric. Without even closing my eyes I could recall exactly what her body looked like under her dress, and a flush crept through me and I knew it was desire coiling in my gut, but I could not fathom why I was even standing here, thinking of this at all.

“I can feel you watching me.”

I blinked, drawn abruptly out of my libidinous thoughts. Angrboda was still facing away from me, but gradually turned her head, a smile playing on the edge of her pale lips.

“What are you doing?” she inquired, and I thought her voice almost sweet after the grating rasp of Hel’s.

“I…”

Angrboda’s smile grew as she picked the rose and gently stuffed it into a leather pouch hanging on her belt. She turned and came towards me, but paused at another growth.

“This is my garden,” she remarked. “Do you like it?”

“Everything seems to be dead.”

Why was I speaking to her? Why wasn’t I leaving?

“Some are, some are not. They all serve me a purpose nonetheless.”

Angrboda picked another bloom and put it into the bag at her waist. She came gradually closer, stopping every so often to pick a flower or a leaf, to rub it between her fingers or run it beneath her nose. All the while I was still standing there like an idiot, strangely mesmerized by every little movement—the way her fingers so gracefully cradled a wilting blossom, or when her lips parted as she felt its texture.

“Many of them are quite poisonous,” Angrboda commented suddenly, continuing to pick some of the plants, caressing their leaves or stems almost tenderly as I stared in silent entrancement.

“Odin told me how you died,” I finally said, eyes flickering to the pale of her neck when a breeze ruffled her hair.

“Did he?” she murmured vaguely, not regarding me.

I took a step forward, and though I told myself it was so I could hear her responses better, deep down I knew it was because I wanted to be closer to her, despite the resentment I had felt towards her only minutes ago coming from Hel’s.

“Yes,” I responded. “He sent soldiers to Utgard.”

Angrboda’s expression remained unmoved.

“They came at night,” she muttered. “They tried to take my children, but I fought them.”

“And they killed you.”

She glanced at me, almost appeared pleased at how close I had come.

“Well, I was not going to stand by and let the soldiers take them, was I? Worry not, Loki, I was able to take a few of them with me.”

Her dark eyes lingered on me, and I took another step forward and then stopped when she looked away.

“Our daughter found me soon after, when your insufferable guardian sent her here to rule over the mindless hordes.”

Another step closer, so I was standing right next to her. She was gently picking at a twisting vine, gathering something in her palm, and then she turned to me and held her hand out. There were half a dozen small berries in her palm, with glistening, bumpy skins.

“Eat one,” she said.

When I hesitated, she smirked.

“They’re not going to kill you, I promise.”

And she took one between her fingers and put it into her mouth. I watched her chew it before hesitantly taking one, in that moment no longer bothering to wonder why I was doing this, and tentatively took it into my mouth. I positioned the little round fruit between my teeth and bit down, bursting it. The sourness of its juice flooded my mouth, but it actually tasted good.

She was staring at me, and I was staring at her, falling deeper into that black of her eyes; my gaze fell down to her parted lips, the insides stained dark purple from the berry, and then I was leaning forward, hardly realizing it until my lips met with hers.

Angrboda was slightly taller than me, and I reached up and put one hand on the side of her neck, the other on her hip, and her back hit the wall as I deepened the kiss—no hesitation now. The sharp edges of her teeth scraped painfully and deliciously across my tongue as I ran it fervently through her mouth, desperate to taste her.

I pushed my body insistently against hers, not close enough, not yet—her breasts pressed flat against my chest, body conforming to mine as I practically crushed her against the wall in my eagerness to be as close to her as possible, but she was not fragile, oh, I knew that so well…

Dragging one hand down over the curve of her hip, I pushed my leg between hers and fisted her skirts in my hand. I was already hard, aching to feel what I could only remember, burning to satisfy this perfidious hunger in me.

“Loki,” she panted, breaking the kiss, and I gasped, feeling as if all the breath had been sucked from my lungs. I exhaled sharply, pulled her body closer and lowered my head to press a lusty, openmouthed kiss to her chest. She sighed my name and slipped her hands beneath my tunic, causing a shiver to run through me when she scraped her nails over my bare skin.

I wanted her, I knew I wanted her, but didn’t understand because at the same time I hated her, and even as I rose to capture her lips in another heady kiss, I could so vividly recall the last time we had been together, could remember the pain and the pleasure, the blood and the darkness and the humiliation.

Sickness now, churning nauseatingly with this black lust.

I broke the kiss, breathing hard, and glanced away, filled suddenly with uncertainty. Angrboda, sensing my abrupt reluctance, breathily whispered my name. She dug her nails into my back, attempted to kiss me again, but before her lips could touch mine, my hand was wrapped around her throat and she was pinned against the wall. She stiffened, wisely uttering not a word, as her hands slowly slid down from beneath my shirt.

Not just this aching want anymore, but streaked with hatred, and she knew it.

I glowered venomously at her, the silence hanging heavy in the air between us; desire still coursing through me, coiling in my gut, urging me forward into the blackness of her eyes. I gritted my teeth and  increased my grip on her neck, wanting to hurt her, wanting to hear her cry out, even as I swallowed that cry with a kiss, wanting to see her body contort in pain while I filled her with my desire, over and over and over…

And still she was staring at me, tempting me, encouraging me.

I growled in frustration, roughly released her, and turned away. I stormed angrily from the garden, perceived her black gaze on me all the way out. I returned immediately to my chambers and once there, drew the curtains so it was nearly pitch black, stripped down, and crawled into bed.

I lay there on my back, hands gripping the blankets, but I could not drive her from my mind. Angrboda filled every depraved corner and I cursed her because despite the deep loathing I felt for her, beneath the covers I was still hard.

It was as they had said earlier: only an annoying habit the dead wished to carry over from life.

I could not help it, though, could not hold back—I closed my eyes, envisioned my giantess as I slid my hand beneath the covers and wrapped my fingers around my rigid cock. Imagined her on top of me, supine beneath me as I began a leisurely rhythm, crying out as I drove into her, and I could almost feel her around me again, teeth and nails and heat and rushing blood…

Faster now, breaths coming in quick, short pants as I approached my end. I did not last long and groaned, mouth falling open as I came; Angrboda consuming my mind, spilling out the cracks, flooding my consciousness as I gratefully descended into this roiling darkness.

When the blackness receded, and left me there gasping for air, covered in a thin sheen of sweat, I slowly withdrew my hand from between my legs and settled it on my stomach, the sticky remnants of my unslaked desire serving merely as a bitter reminder of my weakness.

I hated myself because I could not resist the creeping thought of her and didn’t know why. Angrboda was not beautiful, her personality just as dreadful. So why did I lust so for her?

After a few despairing minutes, I turned onto my side and stared into the darkness, realizing resentfully that it was simply a matter of time before I submitted completely to this insane longing, and to my red-haired witch.

And there, floating unseen, somewhere in the back of my mind, swathed in shadow and sorrow, was a woman with long blonde hair and sad, grey eyes.

__

It felt as if only a couple of weeks had passed, but Hel told me time did not pass here as it did for the living. Sometimes I asked her how long I had been here, since I began to so quickly forget more and more details of my past life, but she never would say and so I learned to stop asking.

Ultimately, I decided to play some part in Hel’s court because it kept me occupied and less likely to run into Angrboda. Hel was thrilled with my decision and had me sit with her when she met with her advisors, or when she held court and the dead brought to her their problems, and even allowed me to pass judgment or solve some dilemma.

I observed Hel’s interactions with her people and came to the conclusion that she was a firm, but compassionate, queen. Some days she left Eljudnir and would walk among the dead in the valley and the people would flock to see her. Though in some aspects Hel repulsed me, in other ways she impressed me, and I daresay I felt some spark of pride in knowing that she was mine.

However, even Hel grew weary, and one day wished to take a break from her queenly duties and walk with me around the palace grounds. She never said it, but I could tell she enjoyed spending time with me. I suppose I could not fault her, since she had been the past thousand years without a father, though I knew not the first thing about being one, and still occasionally grew nauseous at the thought.

We strolled through Angrboda’s garden, though Hel did not mention it belonged to her mother, and eventually came to the only open courtyard in Eljudnir. It was not as filled with plants and dead things like Angrboda’s garden, but grotesque statues, a few lone gnarled trees, and some small trickling fountains. The ground was paved with stone, though many were broken to reveal the dry, dusty ground beneath, and weeds sprouted up between the cracks.

I sat on a stone bench while Hel stood by the edge of one of the fountains. The water was murky and dribbled thickly out of the statue’s mouth, which took the form of a woman seized in agony, clawing at her own face.

A strong breeze blew, lifting Hel’s loose hair off her thin shoulders and ruffling her long black skirts. I sat away from the direction of the wind so I did not have to smell her.

I was watching her, finally asked something that had been nagging at me.

“Hel, are you dead?”

“No,” she answered, brushing her hair out of her face. “Unlike the rest of you, I must actually eat.”

“Are there no others in Helheim that are alive?”

“None.”

And then another question that had been plaguing me.

“Where are those I knew?”

“What are you talking about?”

I paused, unsure if I really wanted to know.

“Is Frigga here?”

Hel remained silent for a long moment, as if deciding whether or not to tell me, then replied without looking at me.

“Yes.”

“Where?”

“In the valley.”

I let out a breath, knowing she was so close.

“Is she happy there?”

“Yes, she is with Grandfather,” Hel divulged, turning to come and sit next to me on the bench.

“Hmm.”

“They visit sometimes,” Hel added.

“Do they?”

“Yes.”

“Why do they not live here with you?”

“Because it matters not what you were in your past life. All are equal here.”

I pressed my lips together, wondering grudgingly why Angrboda was here and not moldering in the valley. I remembered her saying Hel had found her when she had come to rule as queen here, but thought Hel would have been better off leaving Angrboda out there with the rest of them to stagnate for eternity.

Much to my consternation, I had been unable to keep Angrboda at bay. Always she was there, lurking, waiting for any opportunity to distract me from whatever it was I was doing. It did not help that I saw her every morning when Hel insisted we all eat together, and then at night in the great hall.

I could not understand it, why the very thought of her gnawed at me, why I had to fight to fall asleep every night because all I wanted to do was think about her. And always when she saw me she would smile, as if she knew what she was doing to me without even saying a word. It made me hate her all the more, and yet simultaneously only increased my longing for her.

I was doing my best to avoid her, however, and some days later found myself in Eljudnir’s library, seeking solace from Hel and her advisors and whatever duties I may have been assigned that day. The library was not an impressive room by any means, but I had pleasantly discovered that many of the books had come from Asgard.

It was a small comfort to run my fingers over the pages, to imagine that I might have read this very book centuries ago. Hel told me through the years that Odin had occasionally come to see her on his steed Sleipnir, often bearing gifts—mostly books, for Hel loved to read—which disgusted me because I did not like thinking of him as the caring type.

I was leaning against a towering bookshelf, leafing casually through a book which had been scribed here in Helheim about Helheim, when I heard the door to the library open and shut. I turned, thinking it would be a servant come to find me for Hel, but it was not.

Angrboda stood there, head tilted slightly to the side.

“I thought I might find you here,” she said.

I scoffed and glanced back down at the book.

“Get out.”

“I don’t think I should,” she answered, slowly coming closer, running her fingertips over the edges of the tabletops as she approached. “You have been acting oddly.”

I grunted some unintelligible response, irritated because she was completely right. Angrboda laughed softly—not a pretty laugh, though certainly prettier than Hel’s.

“I hope you do not think me so unperceptive,” she remarked. “You know better than that.”

She came to stand before me and I eyed her circumspectly.

“And what exactly is it you are so perceptive about?” I snapped.

She grinned, revealing the points of her teeth.

“You think I do not remember?”

I gritted my teeth. Her very presence was incensing me, frustrating me.

“Remember what?” I ground out.

“That night,” she replied in a sensuous whisper, coming even closer, and I stiffened when she took the book from my hand and set it on the shelf.

My eyes were fixed on hers, and I could almost see it all again playing out in those black eyes—we were in Skrýmir’s great hall, shouting and revelry all around, and she was standing before me, bathed in warm light, urging me—and I felt it again, like a boy who didn’t know anything and didn’t know what was about to happen or why.

“I have missed you, Loki,” she admitted, placing both hands lightly on my chest, never tearing her eyes from mine.

“We spent one night together,” I countered, though my voice was not as strong as before.

“Did it mean so little to you?” she wondered, tilting her head.

I let out a breath, almost felt suffocated.

“I would hardly call it a worthy remembrance,” I said, hating her touching me, but for some reason electing to remain in that spot.

She snickered, I was not fooling her.

“You think I do not notice?” she asked, quirking an eyebrow. “I feel your eyes follow me when I walk across the room. I know you think of me, you can do little else. I feel it, Loki.”

Her words were soft, alluring almost, and I remained still when she leaned forward and kissed me. Though her lips were cool against mine, the sensation sent a bolt of pleasure skittering through me, igniting the embers that had been smoldering in the pit of my stomach. Just as my lips parted to almost thoughtlessly deepen the kiss, she pulled away and smirked as I languidly opened my eyes.

“Did you ever think of me, Loki?” she breathed.

I let out a heavy breath, could not tear my eyes away. I did not care to confess how often I had thought of her, how many sleepless nights I had lay awake thinking of her, hungering for her, needing again everything she had done to me and I to her.

And I wanted to. The opportunity was standing here, so close; I wanted to play out every dark, dissolute lust I had ever imagined on her, to relive that night in Utgard, and yet there was something in the back of my mind screaming against it…

“You can be sure that I thought of you, princeling—”

That word set something off, deep in my mind, and without thinking I grabbed her roughly by the throat and turned around and slammed her up against the shelving—she was not delicate, after all—and she gasped, more in surprise than anything, and grabbed my wrist.

But then, she smiled.

“You’re not as pitiful as I remember,” she chuckled quietly, rolling her head to the side.

“You’re right,” I growled.

I was no longer the unknowing, inexperienced boy I had been when she had lured me into her bed. I had endured much since then and was angry at her, furious for her memory plaguing me my whole life, and now her memory taken form here even in death to torment me, to drive me insane with this wretched desire.

I was beyond desperate to hurt her, dying to be inside her again, to possess her and hear her screaming in pain as she had done to me so long ago. It would not be enough to score her body, to darken its paleness with bruises and bites. I wanted to break it beneath me, taking all she had to give until there was nothing left.

“You hate me,” she murmured, black eyes fixed on mine.

“Yes,” I bit out, tightening my grip around her neck. “I hate you.”

Her smile widened, revealing just the points of her teeth.

“Then show me, Loki,” she breathed, relaxing slightly against the shelves. “Show me how much you hate me…”

My lips parted in surprise at her offer. Opening herself up to let me take what I had only dreamt of, granting me permission to sate these licentious desires.

I tentatively moved my hand to the side of her neck and gently ran my thumb down the column of her pale throat. I could faintly discern the veins beneath her skin, followed the delicate black webs with my eyes as her words echoed inside my mind, winding their way down to curl hotly in the pit of my stomach.

Gods, I wanted to hurt her, in more ways than one—wanted to quench this fire she had ignited in me a thousand years ago—and here she was asking me to do it, begging me to do it.

I could not stop myself.

I moved my hand to the back of her neck, jerked her forward, and crashed my lips to hers. Her back hit the shelving as I thrust my tongue insistently past her lips, groaning in pleasure as I deepened the kiss. I eagerly explored her mouth with my tongue, wincing when her sharp teeth scraped against me.

Angrboda could feel me hardening against her already, because she splayed her hands on my hips and pulled me tight against her, encouraging me.

Somewhere in the back of my mind I knew this was wrong, but in that instant could not remember why, nor could truly be bothered to care—my body was burning, it was almost painful, and I could only anticipate being inside her again, feeling her as I had so debauchedly envisioned these past centuries.

I pushed my leg between Angrboda’s and reached down to grab a fistful of her skirts. She went to tug at the laces of my pants, but I caught her hand, wrapped my fingers around her wrist, and forcibly pinned it to the shelf above her head.

Everything suddenly stopped, just our heavy breathing to be heard.

I closed the distance between us, lightly nipped at her bottom lip.

“Do not touch me,” I growled.

“Yes, Prince,” she laughed, tilting her head back as I yanked her dress up. I kicked her legs apart, exhaled sharply when I slipped my fingers between her thighs and felt her wet. Her eyes fluttered closed as I touched her, noting the way her mouth fell open, and despite the carnal depravity surging through me, I could not help but to take pleasure in her expression as I trailed my middle finger languorously through her folds.

Angrboda did as I said and did not touch me, but gripped the shelf above her head with one hand and the one behind her hips with the other as she wantonly pressed them forward into my touch. Her breath caught in her throat and she rolled her head back when I easily slid my finger inside her, and I leaned forward and pressed a lusty, openmouthed kiss to the front of her throat.

“Loki,” she gasped, breath hitching when I pressed the heel of my palm hard against the bud at the top of her sex. “Fuck me…”

Her libidinous plea inflamed me, and I dragged my lips to the side of her throat, grazing my teeth across her skin, before quickly withdrawing my hand from between her legs. I reached between us and began almost frantically tugging at the laces of my pants. As soon as they were loose and pushed down, I grabbed her hip and wrenched her towards me, desperate to make real these obscene desires that had plagued me for so long.

She was smiling, still smiling, but I was too far gone now to care—the yearning was too strong, blazing inside me. I reached down, hooked my hand under her knee, and lifted her leg up against my hip. I was practically shaking in anticipation, could feel her wet and smell the faint headiness of her desire lingering enticingly in the air, driving me mad.

Angrboda gasped when I pushed roughly forward, burying myself to the hilt inside her. She panted my name and arched her back, grip tightening on the shelf above her head. My mouth fell open at the sensation, pleasure coursing like fire through my veins, burning me up from the inside. I tilted forward, exhaled sharply as I pressed another openmouthed kiss to the side of her neck and ground my hips against hers.

I lifted my head and kissed her on the mouth, despite having told her only moments ago not to touch me, and she responded just as fervidly. It was a sloppy kiss—no thought, just desperation—and I bit her bottom lip so hard I tasted blood, musty and metallic. She returned the favor, biting and then almost playfully licking my bloodied lips as I pulled away.

Still clutching Angrboda’s leg to my hip, I braced my other hand on the shelf behind her and began thrusting into her. I was not gentle, did not whisper sweet nothings into her ear or caress her skin. I dug my nails into her flesh, surely creating marks, bared my teeth and bit down on her neck and shoulder, wanting to draw blood, wanting to hear her moan in pain.

Each starved movement educed a labored gasp from her parted lips, music to my ears; no hesitation now, just heat and pleasure coiling in my gut, pulsing and tightening with each hard thrust.

And she liked it and I knew she did and it drove me even deeper into this debauched haze. Harder so the only sounds were our mingling pants, the sharp snap of my hips against hers, slamming into the shelving over and over until she could barely breathe; only my driving into her body, encouraging me to give all I had.

My own body was screaming for relief, I could feel it rising up in me, threatening to explode—faster, harder—until the tightness coiled in the pit of my stomach finally split open.

I groaned loudly and leaned forward, sinking my teeth into the top of Angrboda’s shoulder and drawing yet more blood. I stiffened against her, body frozen in my ecstasy, the edges of my consciousness faded to black as mind-numbing pleasure surged through me, out of me and deep into her body.

Too soon, I sank back down to reality, the taste of her foul blood filling my mouth. But there was a dull warmth tingling in my limbs, lingering pleasantly in my body like a warm cloud, and I groaned as I uncurled my stiff fingers from around the edge of the shelf.

Angrboda had moved her hands to my back without me realizing, but in that instant I did not care. I liked her arms around me, found a treacherous comfort in her sporadic breaths warm against my skin. I listlessly kissed the top of her shoulder, in the same spot I had just viciously bitten, and then turned my head to affectionately kiss the side of her neck, up to under her ear.

She sighed—almost wistfully—and rested her head against mine, relaxing slightly against the shelves. Not anger anymore, nothing left now but ashes. I unfurled my fingers from within her tangled hair, weakly pushed on the shelf behind her head. Angrboda languidly opened her eyes, but I did not meet her gaze—did not think I could bear to see the triumph there—as I pulled out and away from her.

I gently released Angrboda’s leg and her skirts fell back down to her ankles. I turned away, hardly realizing what I had done—not wanting to even acknowledge it—despite the slickness of her desire still sticky on my fingers, the stinging of my lips where she had bitten me, the taste of blood.

I adjusted myself and laced my pants back up. The room was unbearably silent.

Then, she laughed softly.

I warily regarded her; she was still leaning limply against the shelves, head tilted back, exposing her throat now wrapped with bruises, an amused smile playing on her pale, grey-blue lips.

“Didn’t I tell you you’d always belong to me?” she murmured, fisting her skirts in her hands.

And I could remember, through the murkiness shrouding that fateful night, words whispered faintly in the darkness, etched forever into my mind.

I walked back up to her, stood so close we were only inches apart—resentment flaring hotly inside me, wanting to smack that ridiculous smirk off her face. I did not strike her, however; did not refute her, did not correct her. Instead, I reached up, cupped her face in my hands, and kissed her.

It was not a hard kiss, filled with animosity, but indolent and tender, as if I had not just bitterly fucked her against a bookcase.

A voiceless admission, a wordless surrender.

I moved to tangle my fingers in Angrboda’s hair, brought her closer so our bodies were pressed together. She breathed my name against my lips, sighed again in what I assumed to be contentment when I broke the kiss and rested my forehead against hers.

Angrboda had gotten what she wanted and I knew I would no longer be able to keep from her—she was mine as much as I was hers.

I had waited so long for this, but there was no rush, was there?

I had all of eternity now to drown in her body and all of eternity to hate myself for it.

Title: Stjarnavetr

Chapter: Part II – Chapter 35

Author:renlem

Character: Loki

Genre: Angst, Erotica, Drama, Romance, Tragedy

Overall Rating: Mature (for strong language, strong sexual content, and strong graphic violence)

Summary of Part II: Things have gone well for Loki and Stjarnavetr these past five centuries, but it cannot remain so. When Loki unexpectedly betrays those closest to him, Stjarnavetr’s world falls apart. Painful secrets and dark pasts will come to light, love will be tried to the breaking point, and Stjarnavetr must come to terms with the fact that the man she loves is not the man she thought she knew. Through it all, both Loki and Stjarnavetr will come to realize just how far they will go for one another and the sacrifices they will make, no matter the cost.

Table of Contents

Part I: 1|2|3|4|5|6|7|8|9|10|11|12|13|14|15|16|17|18|19|20|21|22|23|24|25|26|27|28|29|30|31|32|33|34|35|36|37|38|39|40|41|42|43|44|45|46|47|48|49|50|Epilogue

Part II: 1|2|3|4|5|6|7|8|9|10|11|12|13|14|15|16|17|18|19|20|21|22|23|24|25|26|27|28|29|30|31|32|33|34

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Part II – Chapter 35

Stjarnavetr

Vanaheim

The suns were setting and the sky was a beautiful dusky orange, fringed with splashes of pink and red. Blue crept gradually in from the east, heralding the night and casting darkness over the snow-capped mountains in the far distance.

I had always thought the mountains beautiful, and many times before stood and gazed wistfully at them, wishing I was there instead of here. The last time such a notion had crossed my mind had been centuries ago, before I had fallen so low and been exiled to Asgard. Those days seemed remote now, almost a dream; faded or purposely forgotten memories, replaced by newer and more dreadful remembrances.

Though I had been born and raised here, no longer did it feel like home. The air tasted different, felt different on my skin—thinner, cooler. But perhaps it was the changing of the seasons, or that rain was in the air, presaged by the dark, low-hanging clouds lingering ominously close.

I glanced down to the nearest village, situated along one of the large, winding roads that branched out from the palace grounds—my old hometown. I could not see through the trees that bordered its edge, though knew that somewhere within them sat a familiar little house, where once I had lived with my mother and father for but a fleeting eighteen years. I suspected the house was derelict now, and though so close, doubted I should ever see it again.

I slowly looked down at my hands, resting on the stone railing of my balcony, and closed my eyes.

Less than a month ago I had been in Asgard, planning to run away to Midgard with Loki. How quickly, and unforgivably, things changed. I recalled with such clarity Thor’s sorrow, his regret, in revealing to me Valdrlund’s ultimatum. How my old lover had threatened war unless recompense was paid for Freyja’s death, and that recompense was me. Thor had not wanted to let me go, but he had no choice, and I knew it.

I had not been here one day yet and Valdrlund had already given me chambers, three times larger than those I had possessed in Asgard, a new wardrobe, and anything else I might desire—or so his page had told me. Despite this, I had not officially met with Valdrlund yet. That would be tonight, when we would dine privately in his own rooms.

In truth, I was not sure my feelings. Not fear, not apprehension churning in the pit of my stomach—only a sort of lethargic apathy, perhaps, hanging heavy inside me. After the events of a few weeks ago, there was little to move me, torn suddenly from all I had come to know, and little left inside now to let out.

I stood there on my balcony for a while longer, thinking woefully of Loki and Asgard, and just when the dark clouds finally rolled in and the first raindrops began to fall, and the landscape was shrouded in a fine, misty grey, there came a knocking on my door. I turned to answer, drawn abruptly out of my melancholy thoughts.

A young boy stood there when I opened the door—Valdrlund’s page.

“Good evening, Lady Stjarnavetr,” he chirped, bowing deeply. “Dinner is prepared and the king awaits.”

Wordlessly I exited my chambers, gently closing the door behind me. I followed the page, though even after all this time I knew the way.

Despite my outward passivity, I must admit as we neared Valdrlund’s chambers I felt a small twinge of trepidation. Tonight would be my first time seeing him in centuries—to hear his voice again and no doubt to feel his touch.

The guards silently allowed me admittance, and the page announced me before shutting the door behind him.

I stood there, gaze traveling carefully around the room as the rain began to thunder down outside.

Valdrlund’s chambers were grand: richly colored tapestries and thick fur rugs decorated the walls and floor; beautiful and expertly carved furniture inhabited every corner, along with a wide assortment of swords, shields, and spears. A fire snapped in the large brazier centered in the room, casting a warm glow and highlighting the rich ornaments that adorned every polished surface.

And there he sat at the table, kicked back, a brimming cup of wine in his hand. The apprehension I had felt earlier was completely gone and replaced now by a roiling bitterness.

He was clad not in the fashion of the court—brightly colored robes with intricate, metallic embroidery—but rather how I had often remembered him to be dressed. A loose, dark blue tunic, unlaced at the top to reveal his tanned chest, beneath a worn, open leather vest, with leather pants and tall boots, crusted with sand so I knew he had been in the training yard earlier in the day.

He stood up, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Stjarnavetr.”

In five hundred years, he had not changed in appearance at all: pale blond hair down to his shoulders, close-cropped beard that I could still feel the rough graze of across my skin if I tried hard enough, and cold, cold blue eyes masked in a warmth as false as his voice.

Valdrlund walked up to me, cup of wine still in his hand.

“I cannot describe to you how delighted I am that you are here,” he murmured, curling his fingers under my chin and lifting my face. He was so much taller than me and my eyes locked onto his, unflinching, even when he lowered his head, almost haltingly, and pressed a seemingly chaste kiss to my cheek.

Valdrlund stroked his thumb gently over my skin, making it crawl, but I did not strike his hand or push him away, and after a moment he dropped his arm. I could tell he wished to say something more, but ultimately decided against it.

“Please,” he said, walking back towards his table, laid out with a sumptuous feast. “Sit.”

I stared at him, unmoving, but finally took a step forward when he pulled out a chair. I sat down, still unspeaking, as he rounded the table to sit across from me, never taking his eyes off me. He grinned—apparently could think of nothing else to do but smile at me—and though I did not return the sentiment, he did not seem to mind.

“It’s been a while since you’ve had proper food,” he observed, somewhat jokingly. “I had the kitchens prepare some Asgardian dishes, so as not to shock you too much, and some of your favorites that I remember.”

I glimpsed a plate of honey cakes not an arm’s length away, but my appetite was nonexistent.

“I hope you are pleased with your accommodations,” he remarked, setting his cup on the table.

I gave a small nod, eyes still downcast.

“I had your chambers specially prepared for you,” he continued, oblivious as always to my aversion. “I told them to make sure the drapes were your favorite color, and had them bring some books from the royal library. I noticed the shelves were a bit empty and I know how much you like to read…”

When still I did not respond, Valdrlund audibly sighed.

“Stjarnavetr…”

Slowly I looked up. He did not appear angry at my lack of conversation, however—penitent, almost.

“Will you speak with me?”

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” I answered, my first words to him in five centuries.

He hesitated, as if he knew not what to say—a rare occurrence for him.

“I want you to talk to me,” he finally replied.

I stared at him, but could not hold his gaze for very long, and once again lowered my head.

“I do realize this is difficult for you,” he expressed gently. “Your return here—”

“My return here?” I interrupted sharply. I raised my head, could feel my cheeks flush as anger rose suddenly and uninhibitedly inside me. “You speak of it as if I had a choice.”

Though I spoke tersely, I was stunned when Valdrlund did not jump to his feet, or slam his fist on the table.

“Asgard is in turmoil,” he stated calmly, though not threateningly. “Their king was murdered by his own son, and the new Allfather flounders in his role. There was no reason for you to remain.”

“My family is there,” I mentioned, unintentionally a little weaker now.

At that, surprisingly, Valdrlund had nothing to say. He glanced down at his plate and I could tell he was thinking on what next to say. I figured he would insult them, or claim they were of no consequence, but to my astonishment, it was quite the opposite.

“I am sorry, Stjarnavetr,” he sighed, and I shifted uneasily in my seat. “I am sorry things happened the way they did.”

What did he mean? Was he sorry that he had forced me to come here against my will, or sorry about everything that had led up to it, including Loki’s death? But surely not… Valdrlund had detested Loki, and probably had clapped his hands together in joy when he found out my lover’s bloody demise. But I would not ask for clarification, I was not sure I wanted to hear.

“I must admit something to you,” Valdrlund said, voice quieter now. “In truth, it is the reason I wished to meet with you tonight, and I do not wish to dance around the subject, so I will just say it.”  

A sense of unease came over me, unsure of what next would come out of his mouth.

“I wish to begin anew with you.”

My lips parted in surprise.

“There is much history between us, hardly any of it pleasant,” he explained soberly, running his thumb absently around the rim of his cup. “I do not expect your forgiveness for anything I have done to you in the past, nor any of the grief I have caused you now, and I know I will never be able to make any of it up to you, but I wish to try, and I want you to know that I am trying.”

I looked away, my first instinct disbelief. Oh, but of course he was lying, he was such a talented liar. I had heard this all before, it was all I had ever known from him. Anger and degradation, followed always by his professions of love and regret. It was impossible that he might have changed, it was all just an act to soften me.

“I realize you will be disinclined to believe me,” he added, drawing my dubious gaze once again. “But I wish to build again the trust that once existed between us.”

I scoffed, incredulous, and stood up.

“What trust was that, Valdrlund?” I cried, almost in despair. “There never existed between us any semblance of trust.”

“There did, once,” he insisted, and he stood up and came slowly around the table. “In the beginning, I remember—”

“The beginning? What, when you first brought me to the palace?”

“Yes,” he replied, taking a step towards me, but I took a step back.

“I was eighteen, Valdrlund!” I exclaimed. “I didn’t know anything when I came here!”

“I know you didn’t…”

The anger and the resentment fulminating inside me bloomed even hotter, and I could not tell if it was long-buried rage unearthed now by Valdrlund’s mere presence, or the simmering remnants of my grief and fury left over from Asgard. But whatever it was, it was not tinged with timidity, nor fear—after what I had endured this past month, I doubted Valdrlund should ever be able to instill in me those feelings again.

“You took advantage of me,” I bit out. “You call that trust?”

“No,” he confessed, and his answer took me completely off guard. “You were young. I did take advantage of you.”

I could not believe my ears, that he was actually admitting it to me, no excuses—agreeing that he had hurt me and done me wrong. I stared dumbfounded at him, struck into silence by his own admission.

“When thinking back, I can only really remember a handful of times when you were happy,” he said, and I stood still as he unhurriedly closed the distance between us, furious gaze trained on his face. “In the beginning, when everything was still new…”

And he attempted to gently take my hand in his, but I yanked away.

“And when you were with child.”

Immediately, unwillingly, my anger deflated somewhat. I glanced away, hated him being so close to me, but at the same time—some treacherous little part of me—remembered.

Our relationship, if one could call it that, had not been a happy one.

In the beginning, perhaps for a brief time, I had enjoyed being Valdrlund’s mistress. I was young and liked the attention he lavished on me, but things quickly turned sour when the thrill of the newness wore off and Valdrlund became disinterested in keeping me so happy.

He had still required me in his bed, still made it known to all at court that I was his and his alone, and taught me that any minor displeasure I caused him, any suspicion I might arouse in him, would be punished swiftly and unforgivingly. And so our relationship had been thus for nearly a century, until I accidentally became with child.

Even now, standing here, I recalled how quickly Valdrlund had changed. He had not been so short-tempered, nor distrustful of me. He had doted on me, adulated me, and told me how fortunate, how loved, our child would be. For the short time that I carried his son, I had trusted him and believed everything would be alright.

But he had lied.

I shook my head and took another step back, disgusted he should even bring it up, that he should dare to think me so ignorant as to believe anything he said. I turned around—did not even want to look at him—and wiped furiously at a tear that rolled down my cheek.

I had purposely not thought of it in so long, that night when Valdrlund had given me wine laced with poison to rid me of his own child—to destroy my ability to ever have a family with anyone else—mere moments after making sweet love to me, and whispering into my ear that he loved me more than anything.

Did he truly think I would fall for his tricks again, especially after what had happened in Asgard when he had visited centuries ago?

“Stjarnavetr…”

Oh, how I detested Valdrlund. I hated him for having chosen me in the first place, for taking me from my home and father, for forcing me to endure his suffocating, treacherous affections, for so brutally stealing from me the only thing that would have ensured my happiness and ruining my chance of ever again possessing it, and now for dragging me back to it all just weeks after I had lost everything again.

“There is nothing you can ever do that will fix it, Valdrlund,” I muttered bitterly. “I have lived with it my entire life and I will remember what you did until the day I die, and there is nothing… there is nothing…”

And then he was standing beside me, and his closeness disgusted me. I did not want to be here. I wanted to be in Asgard with Loki, lying in bed together, wanted to feel his arms around me, hear him telling me everything would be alright. But it was not Loki’s voice I heard, not his touch I felt.

Valdrlund turned me towards him, saw the angry tears swimming in my eyes.

“I am sorry, Stjarnavetr,” he breathed, and he released me and took a step back. “You may return to your rooms. I am… sorry to have disturbed you this night.”

I stared up at him in teary astonishment, watching as he turned and disappeared into his bedchamber. I stood there for only an instant longer before also turning to leave, wishing to obey before he changed his mind and came back out in a much less sympathetic mood.

I returned to my chambers, and despite my attempted fortitude, within seconds broke down into weeping. Not for Valdrlund, not even for having been torn from my home for these past five centuries, but for Loki and whatever might have been that now was gone.

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As in Asgard, so long ago, and Vanaheim even longer before that, I was appointed the queen’s newest handmaiden.

Valdrlund’s wife and queen was of the Ljósálfar, the fair race of Alfheim. She was called Veleta, and very beautiful, and mother to his young son and daughter. I knew right away, however, that she did not like me, and suspected it was because her husband had brought me specifically here from Asgard, and had before kept me as his mistress.

I cared not, however; I would not try to be friends with her or any in her retinue. I recognized nobody from centuries before, and yet still quickly fell back into the routine I had kept before my exile. When the queen and her ladies took daily excursions into the gardens, I walked well behind them; during the afternoon feasts, I sat at the end of the table, speaking to no one for nobody spoke to me; and when the queen dismissed her ladies early, or for the day, I returned to my rooms and did not elect to mingle with the others.

Nothing had changed, and yet everything had changed. No longer was this the court of Aldregimildr and his docile queen Akkerivif. No longer was Valdrlund the impetuous and golden prince, but king now for over five and a half centuries, and wed with two young children.

I also had changed since Valdrlund had last seen me, and been through much. I had seen my lover tortured, watched him bleed to death in my arms. There was little Valdrlund could do to hurt me now, but it quickly became evident that was not his wish, for despite my overwhelming aversion that first night, he began to court me.

At least three times a week, I would return to my chambers to find a small trinket lying upon my bed. Often it was jewelry—once he gifted me a pair of delicate gold earrings, and another time a necklace of intricately woven silver metal strands—but occasionally it was a new scent or oil for my skin or hair, and always it went straight into the trash.

I suppose Valdrlund was taking the small first steps in trying to soften me, but so far was failing miserably. As I had told him, I did not see what he could ever do to make anything up to me, or make me feel less animosity for him than I already did, and had felt for almost my entire life.

And yet he tried, and he was king so I could very well not completely ignore him.

Eventually came another summons, requesting my presence at a private supper once again.

Much like my first night here, Valdrlund’s page escorted me to his rooms. The feast laid out tonight was much smaller, and I wondered if Valdrlund had planned accordingly, should I walk out suddenly or once again not eat a single bite.

Valdrlund smiled when I entered, as if our previous conversation had never taken place, and once the door was shut he approached me. I stiffened, uncertain as to what he was about to do, and let out a little breath when he took my hand, lifted it, and gently kissed my knuckles. His beard was rough against my skin and a shiver ran through me, winding its way down my spine. When he released me, I quickly drew my hand back, but he pretended not to notice.

“You look lovely tonight,” he observed affectionately, gaze traveling up and down my body, but not in a lecherous manner—surprisingly. “I am pleased to see you looking like a Vana again.”

I lowered my eyes and silently went to the table to sit. Once Valdrlund was seated across from me, he smiled again.

“I pray you are faring well, Stjarnavetr. I know it’s been a while since you served under a queen, and am sure returning has been somewhat of a transition for you…”

“It is hardly any different from when I was under Queen Akkerivif.”

“Really?” he asked, sounding genuinely curious. “How so?”

I looked down, hesitant, but then decided if he would make me eat with him, if he would force these inane conversations, then I would let him know what I really thought.

“They do not speak to me and I do not speak to any of them,” I replied bluntly, glancing back up at him.

He furrowed his brows. “You do not?”

“No, and I never did. I hardly spoke to anyone.”

“Why not?”

“Because I was your mistress, and I knew what would happen if I accumulated too many friends, or spoke to anybody you did not want me to.”

He stared at me for a long moment, and I stared unflinchingly back, as if challenging him to dispute me on the matter.

“I think you should try to get to know some of the queen’s ladies,” he finally said. “They are not all as discourteous as you seem to think.”

“I’m sure you would know quite a few of them very well,” I retorted petulantly.

The corner of his lips twitched.

“I know what you’re doing, Stjarnavetr,” he remarked coolly, taking a sip of wine. “But you are speaking with me, at least.”

I pressed my lips together in irritation and glanced down at my hands.

“If you would like to take a break from goading me, there is a whole table full of food here. You have not been eating well, I can tell.”

Grudgingly, I put some food on my plate. I caught sight of Valdrlund’s small smile when I took a bite of bread and it angered me.

“Does the queen know I am here?”

“Yes,” he answered immediately, not looking at me as he cut the meat on his plate into chunks.

“She does not mind?”

“She minds,” he responded flatly, “but she has no choice.”

I lowered my eyes, could hardly believe my next words.

“Do you beat her, as well?”

Valdrlund was silent, and despite my determination only a few minutes before to let him know my mind, a terrible dread filled me. What stupidity had possessed me to say such an impulsive thing?

He exhaled sharply and set his cutlery down, and I almost expected him to shout at me to get out, or to stand up and come angrily around the table, but he did not, and my insides twisted in trepidation.

“I want you to meet my children,” he finally said, taking me entirely by surprise, and I glanced up at him in astonishment.

It was in that moment when I realized Valdrlund’s words that first night perhaps had held some little bit of truth, that perhaps he truly did wish to begin anew. The Valdrlund I had known would have leapt across the table and grabbed me by the hair or struck me for such impudence, but the man sitting in front of me seemed to brush off my comment like it was nothing.

I slowly looked down at my lap, unsure of what to say.

“Járnvándr and Etjameida are their names,” he added.

“Why do you want me to meet them?”

“Because I am proud of them and think you would like them.”

I could not for the life of me fathom this. I racked my brain, searching for any sinister trace I might have missed, anything I had not listened closely enough to, but came up with nothing. And yet, after all we had been through, I still was hesitant to trust anything he told me.

But I knew he would have his way eventually, and gave a small nod, acquiescing to his request.

When we had finished eating—more him than me, since I had really only eaten about a fourth of a plate—he came around the table and pulled the chair out for me. I stood up and he silently escorted me to the door, since I was sure he could tell I was more than ready to leave.

“Thank you for dining with me tonight,” Valdrlund said, and I noticed he did not move to kiss my hand or cheek. “I appreciate it.”

He took a step back, almost as if careful to my regard, and I wordlessly turned and left.

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Valdrlund was good on his word and a few days later invited me to his chambers for the midday meal. Queen Veleta eyed me suspiciously as I followed the page out of her chambers, and I ignored the curious whispers that followed me out from the other women.

Upon entering Valdrlund’s chambers, I saw that the large double doors in the far wall were thrown open, revealing a sun-drenched terrace. I went to the open doorway and glanced outside. Valdrlund was sitting beneath a canopy at a table, skimming over some papers laid out before him.

He heard me and raised his head.

“Stjarnavetr! Come, sit.”

As I came around the table, a cool breeze blew, ruffling my hair, and Valdrlund smirked.

“I thought it might be nice to eat out here today, since it’s not freezing yet.”

I gave a small nod and seated myself on the other side of him, well within the shade. Birds were chirping, the wind rustling the nearby trees. In the distance, I could hear the faint clamor of the training yard, located on the other corner of the palace.

“I’ve requested the children join us for the midday meal,” Valdrlund said, setting his papers on the tabletop. “They should arrive shortly, along with the food.”

While we waited, Valdrlund proceeded to tell me about his son and daughter. Járnvándr, who went by Vándr, was the youngest, only eleven years old, and his daughter, Etjameida, was the oldest at fifteen years.

Vándr was just like him, Valdrlund explained, somewhat proudly; his favorite place to be was in the training yard, learning the sword, and he often helped to train Vándr himself.

Etjameida, however, was very different from her brother. She reminded him of me, Valdrlund admitted, for she loved to read. Sometimes she would disappear in the morning after breakfast, only to be later found curled up in a windowsill in the library, surrounded by a stack of dusty old books. She also excelled at seidr, even more so than her little brother, who struggled with it.

As soon as Valdrlund had finished pridefully relating to me his children’s accomplishments, we heard the door in his main room open.

“Ah, here they are,” Valdrlund grinned, and he and I stood as they came out onto the terrace, trailed by a few servants who had just arrived to lay out the meal. “Children, I want you to meet a good friend of mine. This is Lady Stjarnavetr.”

Járnvándr smiled widely and bowed deeply, while Etjameida inclined her head and politely curtsied.

I inconspicuously studied the children as they seated themselves at the table, and as the servants quickly arranged the food.

Vándr was decked in bright blue and gold, and looked just like his father—pale blue eyes, blond hair yellowed from being outside too much. He made quite a bit of noise sitting down, and I could tell he liked the attention—also just like his father.

Etjameida was a bit more subtle in her movements, and did not resemble her little brother at all, but more her mother. Tall for her age, delicate and slender. Her dark hair was long and straight and glossy, pulled back into a sensible braid; her face was angular but feminine, with large violet eyes situated beneath slim, dark eyebrows.

Once the servants were gone, and everybody settled, Valdrlund encouraged the children to speak of their education.

Valdrlund’s children were not him, and I did not feel resentment towards them, for they knew not what atrocities had passed between their father and I. Because of this I listened attentively as Etjameida described to me her rigorous lessons, ranging from seidr to history to mathematics, and then as Vándr proudly recounted to me his daily training. He grew quite excited in letting me know how talented of a warrior he was, and how one day he would be just as good as his father the king.

I felt odd as Vándr spoke, for at one point I could not help but to wonder if my and Valdrlund’s son would have looked like this, with pale hair and pretty blue eyes and flushed little cheeks. He would have been as big as Valdrlund now, and I grew heartsick.

I did my best to hide it, though, and conversed with the children. While speaking with Etjameida, I let slip that I had been a tutor of seidr once, and she expressed interest. Realizing I probably should not have mentioned it, I steered away from that topic, thinking it best to try not to provoke Valdrlund with his children here.

Finally, Valdrlund thanked his children and had them return to their lessons, leaving him and I terribly alone in silence. Once they were gone, I leaned back in my chair and for the first time, addressed Valdrlund first.

“Your children are very beautiful,” I murmured.

I felt a sort of melancholy I could not explain, and afterwards was quiet. Valdrlund spoke a little more of them, extolling their virtues, but was interrupted shortly after when a messenger appeared.

“Your Majesty, my apologies, but you are needed in the throne room.”

“Very well, I will be there shortly.”

Valdrlund seemed somewhat annoyed at being interrupted with me, but I stood up, relieved.

“Thank you for meeting them, Stjarnavetr,” he said, smiling almost gratefully at me. “Would you mind to dine with me again this night?”

I hesitated, but figured it would do no good to refuse. He would simply insist, or order me. I nodded and his smile grew.

“Good. I will see you tonight.”

__

I sat in my chambers later that night, perched upon the edge of my bed, waiting for Valdrlund’s page to come and fetch me.

I stared down at the stone floor, vacantly twisting a ring on my left middle finger. It had been a present from Loki, centuries ago. He had brought it back to me from Midgard, from one of his trips with Thor. It was a delicate gold band with a radiant green stone and pearls surrounding it. A couple of the pearls were flawed, and they formed a misshapen but pretty flower. Imperfect, but perfect to me for he who had gifted it.

Valdrlund had inquired about the ring during our second dinner together, but I replied it had been a gift from Queen Frigga many years ago. I was not sure if he believed me, but he had let it go, much to my relief.

Here in Vanaheim, this ring was the only thing I had of Loki’s. I found myself often gazing at it, thinking longingly of him. My thoughts were usually unhappy, and only fuel for that night when I would cry myself to sleep, muffling my sobs with my pillow. I missed Loki so much it hurt, and felt so alone here without him.

I was almost grateful when Valdrlund’s page came to fetch me, for I was on the verge of tears thinking once again of Loki.

When I arrived at Valdrlund’s rooms, dinner, as always, was laid out on the table already.

Valdrlund greeted me with warm enthusiasm, despite my obvious lack of it. I was not as silent as I had been that first night, but still, even a little over a month later, was guarded. His behavior confused me, for he had been nothing but kind and thoughtful—such a contrast to the Valdrlund I remembered.

“I am glad you finally met Vándr and Etjameida,” Valdrlund remarked, refreshing his cup of wine.

“They seem wonderful,” I replied softly, halfheartedly picking my spoon up.

“They are quite smart, as you saw,” Valdrlund said, grinning. “I’m afraid to say Etjameida’s a little ahead of her brother.”

I managed a small smile. “Is she?”

“Yes,” he laughed. “I’m more apt to leave her the throne than my son.”

“What would the queen say?”

Valdrlund’s smile fell slightly at that, and I realized he did not like speaking of her.

“It matters not what she thinks,” he dismissed.

Despite his aversion, I was curious.

“When did you wed?” I wondered, chancing it.

“About twenty years ago,” he answered stiffly. “It was a union of necessity.”  

I looked down at the bowl in front of me, quiet. He did not need to say it, it was obvious even unspoken—he did not love her.

“She knows it, as do all,” Valdrlund stated impassively, as if he had heard my thoughts.

I did not say anything, unsure of how to respond.

“She does not like that I’ve brought you here.”

“I cannot see why,” I murmured, absently stirring my soup.

“Can you not?” he inquired, and I heard the smile in his voice. “She is jealous.”

I shook my head, discomfited. Valdrlund sensed it immediately and, much to my shock, mindfully dropped the subject.

The rest of the dinner was spent either in silence or subdued, banal conversation. I was mostly reserved, as I had been the other times, and Valdrlund did not pry too much or begin speaking of terribly personal matters. He discussed with me Vanaheim, and things that had happened in my absence, which I admit I was interested in.

He appeared in a cheerful enough mood, which bewildered me. It was difficult for me to believe he had changed, despite his confession and outwardly improved attitude. I was expecting at any moment for the real Valdrlund to break through, for all his apologies and remorses to give way to anger and rage. But it did not, and my old lover practically seemed normal.

Eventually, when it began to grow late, I asked Valdrlund if I could retire.

He gracefully acquiesced and came around the table as I stood up to bid me farewell.

“Thank you again for dining with me, Stjarnavetr.”

I nodded, but just as I went to turn, Valdrlund lifted his arm, curled his fingers under my chin, and raised my head up. I froze, momentarily stunned, as he lowered his head and pressed his lips to my cheek. He lingered for an instant, and I felt his breath warm on my skin before he slowly pulled back.

He gazed down at me, and there was something in his eyes—not lust, nor cunning—but still I did not like it, because it did not validate the animosity I was trying so hard to hold onto.

“I have missed you, Stjarnavetr,” he murmured, brushing his thumb across my chin.

His eyes fell down to my parted lips, but before he could try anything else, I pushed his arm away and took a cautionary step back. Not wanting to hear anything else he had to say, I turned to leave, but before I could even take two steps, he gently caught my arm.

“No!” I cried, more in alarm than anything, as panic shot through me and came to settle sickeningly in my stomach. I jerked my arm away and moved backwards until I hit his door.

“I am sorry,” Valdrlund expressed, appearing surprised at my reaction. “I only wanted to show you.”

“Show me what?” I asked harshly, cradling my arm as if his touch had burned me.

“How I have changed,” he answered, almost entreatingly.

I shook my head, had known at some point it would come to this. He was lying, he had to be lying…

“You will never change,” I said tremulously, but with conviction. “You told me that all the time and you never did.”

“That was five centuries ago,” he retorted, and I detected just the faintest hint of annoyance.

“It is only a matter of time before things go back to how they were—”

Abruptly I gasped and stiffened against the door when he closed the short distance between us and towered over me. He took me by my upper arms—not roughly—and I looked up at him, heart pounding in my chest.

“I have been saddled these past centuries with endless, tedious responsibility, and now a wife who somehow manages to get on every last one of my nerves… and I have thought of you all this time, Stjarnavetr.”

That, at least, I could believe; Valdrlund was the type to keep his mind fixed on something, especially if he could not have it. How he had lost me to Loki so long ago still burned him, I am sure, though he was doing a fantastic job so far of hiding it.

“I’ve had five hundred years to think on how I wronged you, everything I did…”

My lips parted in surprise to hear him once again admit it. He raised his arms, and I stiffened and almost whimpered his name when he placed his hands on the sides of my neck, gently cradling my head to tilt it up.

“I know I wronged you, Stjarnavetr. Sometimes I still cannot sleep for the thought of what I did to you.”

“You—you cannot possibly hope to ever make it up to me,” I whispered, slightly hunching my shoulders, recoiling from his touch as much as I could. “You hurt me, Valdrlund, it was all you ever did… you hurt me, you killed… you killed…”

And the thought of it—all that had transpired before my exile from Vanaheim, what Valdrlund had stolen from me—caused the tears to come, to well up in my throat, and I lowered my eyes, chin trembling. Despite my attempted fortitude, I simply could not pretend it did not affect me, even all this time later.

“I know,” he murmured, lightly stroking my skin with his thumb. “I could say it was Father who made me do it, or that it was not by my own doing, but I will not make excuses. I take full responsibility, and have lived with the guilt these past centuries.”

I shook my head, felt his body so close, too close.

“What are you doing?” I whimpered, putting my hands on his front, if only to keep him from inching closer.

He gazed down at me, did not explode as I thought he might.

“I just want you to know that I love you,” he breathed, and he affectionately caressed my cheek before releasing me and taking a step back.

The silence hung heavy between us, but I did not return his sentiment and glanced down at the floor, knowing not what to do.

“Thank you for coming tonight, Stjarnavetr,” he finally said. “I am sorry it ended so.”

I slowly raised my head, wondering anxiously where the Valdrlund I had used to know had gone? The Valdrlund I had been frightened of, who would have laughed at the idea of such deferential regard?

Unwilling to remain and find out, however, I turned, opened the door, and hastily left. Upon reaching my chambers, just like that first night, I broke down and cried. Not necessarily now for Loki, but for myself.

I wished I had never met Valdrlund, wished that I had never been taken from my father. What happiness might I have found if I had never been brought the palace, and left to grow up in the village? But then, I never would have gone to Asgard and met Loki, never would have spent five wonderful centuries with him, only for it all to culminate in bloody despair.

I hardly knew what to cry for anymore, it all just blended miserably together, and no matter how hard I wished, no matter how hard I wept, when I awoke in the morning I would still be in Vanaheim, and Loki would still be dead, and all would still be lost.

You’re a Father

You: *sitting on the bed looking worried*

Loki, walking up to you: Darling, is everything alright?

You, breathing out and faking a smile: Y-yeah, everything is fine

Loki: Well it sure doesn’t seem that way, *sitting down* is there anything you want to talk about?

You:N-no

Loki: I know you’ve been sick lately, but it’s time we should take you to the doctor. You’ve been throwing up every morning for a few days now.

You: I-it’s fine Loki. It’s probably just the stomach flu.

Loki, kissing you on the forehead: If you insist, my love. Just tell me if you need anything. I’m always here for you.

Loki: *starts to leave the room*

You: *bursts into tears*

Loki, immediately turning around: What’s wrong???

You, through tears:I-I

Loki: You can tell me, darling. It’s okay.

You: I’m pregnant.

Loki: *frozen in his tracks staring wide-eyed*

Loki: *starts staring at the ground*

You: I took a test a few days ago and it was positive. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before, I was just so worried that you would-

Loki, running up to you and sweeping you off the ground: I’M GOING TO BE A FATHER!!!!

Loki, looking at you and kissing you on the cheek: And you’re going to be a mother! TO MY CHILD!

You, stuttering: Y-you’re not mad?

Loki: MAD?! IM OVERJOYED! Ever since we got married this was one of the only things I’ve wanted.

Loki: I know we’ve both been too busy to talk about it but… WE ARE HAVING A CHILD!!!!

Thor, out of nowhere: I’M GOING TO BE AN UNCLE!

Loki, placing your down and turning to Thor: What in Valha- WHERE DID YOU COME FROM?!

Thor, running up to you both: That doesn’t matter! *smiling widely* IM GOING TO BE AN UNCLE TO YOUR CHILD!

You:*giggling*

Thor, ecstatically: Ever since you were dating, all Loki would talk about was his future with you and having children!

Thor, squealing and hugging you both tight: And now it’s finally happening!!!!

You,turning to Loki: Is this true?

Loki, blushing and gazing into your eyes: Every word,my love.

Thor, hastily running out of the room: I must go tell the others!

Loki: Thor wai-

Thor: *already left the room*

You: Oh well, there he goes

Loki, turning and hugging you while resting his head on top of yours: You my dear, will be an amazing mother.

You, hugging him back: And our daughter will have the best father.

Loki, looking at you:Daughter?

You, looking into his eyes and nodding:Mhmm

Loki, smiling: We’re having a beautiful baby girl!

Loki, cupping your face: She’ll be just as beautiful and wonderful as her mother.

You, giggling: And maybe just as mischievous as her father.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Requested by: @tomhiddleston-is-mischief

Tags:@myjokesarecriesforhelp@sphoox@myworddump@cool-ontherun-world@lokii-lover@shesakillerkween@roxysherinford@swampysquid@jade10077@littleredstarfish@fandomnerdsarecool@heylals

Falling for you// Part three

Pairing: Loki x Female Reader

Word count: 479

Warnings:None

Summary: Loki has had a crush on the reader for a while but is too shy to admit it. One thing leads to another enlightening Loki’s frustration and slowly makes him start to hate the reader.

Chapter: Part 3 of ???

Read other parts here: Part one,Part two

A/N:y/d = your date

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After crying for a few minutes, y/n opened the door in front of her. To her surprise, Thor was standing behind it. She had assumed that he was listening to what her and Loki had been talking about

Thor: So there is a ring…

You: Thor, it’s not what it looks like

Thor,paranoid: Then what is it suppose to look like y/n?!

You:Thor-

Thor: My brother is IN LOVE with you. And you’re seeing another man? Making him think that he had a chance?

You:Thor-

Thor: He told you everything. At some point, could you not have slipped it in that you were with someone else?

You,screaming: THOR LET ME SPEAK

Thor, upset: *sighs* fine, you better have a good explanation for all the mess you made.

Y/n then explained everything and Thor listened to every word she said.

Thor:But-

You: Yeah, I know

Thor: Y/n that’s wrong

You, storming around the room: Don’t you think I know that! And I was really hoping he wouldn’t have showed up to Tony’s wedding too.

Thor: You have a lot of sorting out to do. All because of how you feel just turned everything into one spiralling mess.

You: I panicked okay! And I’ve been trying to get out of it for a while but I freeze whenever I go up to him

You: I tried to cover it up at the wedding but I failed the second I saw him

Thor: So what does this mean for you and Loki? How do you feel?

You, sighing:Thor-

Thor, smiling:Y/n

You:*sighs*

You:

You:…I like him okay

You:*sighs*

You: I love him

Thor,yelling: YES! I KNEW IT!

You: Shhh Thor! Don’t be so loud!

Thor, happy: But this is AMAZING news! We need to tell-

You: nO WE CAN’T. I have my little problem remember?

You: So until I solve that we can’t tell Steve we can’t tell Tony we can’t tell Nat,Bruce,Clint, Peter, Bucky ANYONE

You: And we DEFINITELY can’t tell Loki.

Thor, smiling: Alright alright

You: Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to fix this mess I have created

Thor: Don’t you mean “we’ll fix it?”

You:Huh?

Thor: I want to help, y/n. I care for you and I want to see Loki happy again.

You, smiling: thank you Thor.

Thor: But you need to give Loki some time, because he will be bitter about this for a while. And it won’t get much better if he knows that you’ve been hiding this from him.

You: It’s so difficult, because I need to talk to y/d too

Thor: That’s why I’m here to help! You and Loki will be on good terms in no time

Y/n smiled at Thor and then the began to slowly construct their plan.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tags:

@myjokesarecriesforhelp@sphoox@myworddump@cool-ontherun-world@lokii-lover@shesakillerkween@roxysherinford@swampysquid@jade10077@littleredstarfish@fandomnerdsarecool@scorpionchild81@hunter-with-a-tardis

Loki: Look at the stars

You: Yeah aren’t they just beautiful?

Loki, turns to you and smiles: You know what’s more beautiful? :)

You:What? :)

Loki: The tesseract.

You: So there’s a side view, a rear view, a front view and a top and bottom view right?

Loki:Yeah?

You: There’s another to add to that list

You: I loview:)

Loki:?

You::)

You: Get it? It’s like-

Loki,interrupting: I don’t get it

You, face palming:nevermind

Loki, alone in another room an hour later:oH

Y’all see this??

*Adds Loki/Tom to the list

Very questionable if I do say so myself

Chapters: 1/1

Words: 4500+

Pairing: Original female character of color/Tom Hiddleston

Warnings: Implied/Referenced Suicide, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Angst, Horror

 I’ve also posted this onAO3

There’s pictures there, in case you want some bonus content.

Story Playlist, for optimal reading experience : Here

Phew..this plot bunny was running around for a HOT minute! I’m not sure what my obsession is with stories that deal with betrayal of some sort…but I think I’m just a slut for some angst. Also, I’ve been listening to a ton of silent hill soundtracks, which put me in the mood to write something depressing. And goodness is that game good. This story is largely inspired by it, with some of the dialogue, text, and locations from the original game interwoven with my story. I changed things up a lot to follow the flow of my narrative though.

—–

Tom dreamt of her again that night.

Pale, blue-tinted skin. Dark sunken eyes. Her stiff, swaying feet. He could even see the chipped red nail polish on her toes with clarity.

The cruel memory was always, without fail, in perfect detail.

Over the years though, he had slowly come to accept it. The pills never helped to stop the nightmares, and no amount of avoiding sleep was going to help his case anyway.

He liked to think of it as penance.

As always, he jumped up from the bed in cold sweat. And from the cross look on his girlfriend’s face, he must’ve woken her up on accident as well.

“I’m…I’m sorry Jen,” He turned a bit to rub at her naked shoulder, and hoped the action would coax her back to sleep, “ Just another one of those falling dreams..”

“Hmrrph..” She shrugged off his hand, and turned to face away from him. Thankfully, it didn’t take much for her eyes to close once again.

Tom sighed, and rubbed at his face tiredly. Whenever he had that dream…he could never fall back to sleep. It was as if all the emotions of that day were renewed, and it was hard to shake them off until morning.

His therapist suggested he acknowledge what he felt, during this time. The sorrow. The regret. The guilt. The gut-wrenching pain.

And if he were to be completely honest, it worked most days.

Often, he would find himself scribbling away at his personal journal at 3 am, nursing a cup of tea.

He wrote about how much he wished he could reverse time. The words he could have taken back, and the words he could have said instead. He wanted to tell her how much he loved her, and that he regretted ever leaving her.

Helena. Her name was Helena, but he could never bring himself to write it out. Just referred to her vaguely with pronouns.

But tonight…he couldn’t even bring himself to write. The dream was especially vivid this time around, to a disturbing degree. He could even smell the stench.

What’s worse, that smell was just as he remembered it three years ago.

Tom resisted the urge to throw up at the thought of it, and stumbled out of bed to the bathroom. He turned on the sink, and splashed the coldest water he could onto his face.

That probably wasn’t the best thing to do, either. He could still see her, swaying in that dark room against his closed eyelids.

His eyes shot open immediately, and he found himself dry heaving into the sink.

“Fuck…” he cursed silently, as his eyes began to well with tears.

It was going to be another one of those nights, and the only thing he could do was suffer through the dark memories until morning.

Slowly, he made his way to the kitchen. There was little tea could do at this stage, but it was a welcomed distraction.

“You’re really leaving…aren’t you?”

Her voice was soft, softer than it usually was.

All the yelling and screaming must have destroyed every malice she could have mustered in her body.

Her dark brown eyes were downcast, red-rimmed with sorrow.

“Lena. No…Helena. I never wanted for any of this to happen.” Although Tom intended to sound a bit caring, the words left his mouth with harsh coldness.

“I love Jen too much. Too much to stay…I’m sorry. Please understand.”

His wife looked up at him then. Her chapped lips trembled immensely with bridled anger. And even though her long hair was rather unkempt, he could still see the glare she sent his way through her bangs.

“Five…f..five years Tom. You’re r-really going to…to throw it all away for that..for..for her?”

Tears spilled from her eyes as she stuttered in anguish, and she fisted the fabric of her dress painfully as she continued, “ I… I love you so much, Tommy. I never meant anything I said…I was sick and -“

“Stop with that!” Helena was startled, and she stared up at him with wide eyes. Throughout their argument, this was the first time he had yelled so loudly at her.

His eyes were narrowed, shoulders squared. He was the embodiment of hostility.

“Don’t say things that you don’t fucking mean.”

Tom didn’t wait for her to reply. He grabbed his jacket, and left the house with a slam to the door. He’d pick up his belongings later, after he cooled down.

Although Helena infuriated him, he could never forgive himself if he hurt her physically. A part of him still loved her, even if it was small.

They were married for five years after all. He couldn’t necessarily forget it all, no matter how much he wished it was possible.

Their marriage…it was a happy one, at first. He remembered the day when he met her, how stunned he was by her beauty and tenderness.

He loved how her brown eyes looked against the sunlight, and the lone dimple that revealed itself when she smiled. He loved her gentle voice, when she would tell him about her day. Everything. He loved everything about this woman. Down from the hair, right to the toes.

However… things took a sharp turn for the worst when she became ill.

The doctors were clueless about what it was. It attacked her body so quickly and suddenly, no one could do much to help her ailing health.

Slowly but surely, she began to lose her glow.

Her smiling face was replaced with an ugly snarl, her body became skin and bones, and her kind words transformed into insults that aimed to shred at his heart.

She pushed him away with every chance she could, when all he wanted was to be there for the woman he loved.

So, who could blame him for straying?

Jennifer was kind, new, and beautiful. Everything that Helena was, but now wasn’t.

It didn’t matter to him that she was good friends with his wife. Surely, Helena would rather it be Jen than some stranger.

But now, she wanted to take back all those words of hatred, and backtrack like a coward. She begged for him to stay, despite all the times she pushed him away.

Her insults drove away the guilt whenever he went to Jennifer for solace. But if she decided to just take it all back now… where did that leave him?

Tom stewed like that for hours, walking about the neighborhood before he decided to make his way back to the house. It was late morning when he left, but the skies were already starting to darken.

Time flies when you’re upset, it seemed.

He readied and steeled himself to face her again. He was going to pack the rest of his things, and then leave.

For good this time.

But he hated that his heart still ached at the thought of it, despite everything that she put him through.

Tom entered the house cautiously, and searched for any signs of his wife. When he left, she was still sitting on the living room couch. Hours had gone by, so he wasn’t sure why he still expected her to be there.

Worst case scenario, she was in their bedroom. With how erratic she’d been acting lately, it wouldn’t be a surprise if she tried to prevent him from leaving.

Best case scenario, she was asleep in there. Her illness made her extremely weak, which caused her to sleep more often than not.

Tom found himself in front of the door, hand frozen on the knob.

He was tired, tired from all the fighting. If possible, he wanted to ignore her as he quietly gathered his things together.

With these thoughts in mind, he opened the door -

To the sight of Helena’s feet hovering above the floor.

“Tom, Tom? Thomas!”

He jumped from the kitchen table, and knocked his knee on it in surprise.

He grimaced, and looked up at Jennifer who gave him a worried look.

“Why are you out here? You even fell asleep..”

Tom looked around his surroundings, disoriented. He fell asleep?

He remembered coming to the kitchen to make some tea for his nerves. But before he realized it…

“I’m not sure how that happened…I’m sorry Jen.”

“..It’s okay, Tom. Are you feeling okay..?” She placed her hand on his forehead, her voice tinged with concern, “ You can call out sick, you know? Talk to me,”

Tom stiffened. He contemplated many times, talking to Jennifer about his dreams. But…she had been badly affected by Helena’s death as well.

She was friends with her, after all. Jen felt just as much guilt and shame that he did.

But Jennifer refused to talk about it, about her. Her way of coping was to forget Helena ever existed for her own sanity.

They were both monsters, monsters who drove the one they cared about to her death. They truly deserved one another.

Tom only shook his head at her question, and attempted to reassure her with a weak smile, “I’m fine, honest. But I’ll call out today…I’ve been working too much at the office.”

Jennifer didn’t pursue the topic any further, and returned his smile. “ Thank gosh, you’ve been taking way too many hours. Just relax for once,”

He watched as she moved about the kitchen through tired eyes, to fix herself some coffee. “There’s some mail on the table, by the way. I picked them up before I came in here.”

Now that she mentioned it, there was a small pile of envelopes on the table. He looked at them all indifferently, and dismissed the majority of them as junk or bills.

“..I’ll sift through them. Make me a cup as well, would you?”

He dragged the pile in front of him, and wiped his eyes to take away some of the droopiness.

He cracked his neck, and massaged his shoulder with a hand as he began to look through the mail. Like he expected, there were some bills, some junk… and..

A beige, worn out envelope that was sealed with red wax.

But the look of the envelope wasn’t what caught his eyes. It was the name on it that caused Tom’s throat to go dry, and his sweat to grow cold.

From: Helena

There wasn’t a return address, just her name.

Was this some sort of sick joke?

Unless it was possible for a dead woman to send letters, then the likelihood that it was his Helena that sent it was extremely low.

Still though…his hands wouldn’t stop shaking. Why did he feel so terrified?

First the nightmares, now this.

“Hey..everything okay?” Jen placed a steaming cup of coffee in front of him, and sat at the table, “You’ve been staring at that for a good minute now…is the bill that much?”

She took a sip of her own coffee, her voice lightly teasing.

“What? Oh, no, it’s nothing,” Tom quickly snapped out of it, and tossed the envelope aside as casually as he could, “Just some junk.”

Tom wasn’t sure what possessed him to take the envelope with him on his run.

Despite everything that told him to leave it closed, to leave it unread, he also felt the urgent need to keep it by his side.

He ran through a secluded park, with the envelope stuffed in his jacket pocket. If he was going to read it, he didn’t want Jennifer to know. Especially if it was actually from… her.

There was a drizzle earlier on, so the park benches were rather wet. However, he didn’t care as he plopped down to sit, and reached into his jacket pocket for the envelope.

A stray droplet of water from the overhanging tree fell on the envelope, as he sat and stared at it in silence.

Tom felt that he was probably overreacting. No, he most definitely was. There was no way on earth it was from his Helena. The same Helena who he still loved, to this very day. The same woman who took her own life that fateful evening.

He was only going to set himself for extreme disappointment if he hoped for that much.

Tom held his breath, and tore open the envelope without any regard for the wax seal.

And as he read its contents, the entire world came to a standstill.

In my restless dreams,

I see that town.

Silent Hill.

You promised me you’d take me

there again someday.

But you never did.

Well, I’m alone there now…

In our ‘special place’…

Waiting for you…

Waiting for you to come to see me.

I know I’ve done some terrible things to you.

Something you’ll never forgive me for.

I wish I could change that, but I can’t.

I just…didn’t want you to see me like that anymore.

That ugly, repulsive me.

I was so angry all the time, and I

struck out at everyone I loved most.

Especially you, Tommy.

That’s why I understand if you hate me, even now.

But I want you to know this.

I’ll always love you.

And I want to see you, no matter how long it takes.

I’ll always be here…waiting.

With love,

Lena

He remembered her handwriting.  Her letters were always scribbled elegantly, but felt rushed at the same time. This was written by her. There was no doubt about it in his soul. He could even hear her gentle voice as he read it.

The emotions Tom currently felt was like a kaleidoscope. Confusion, hope. Sorrow, fear. And above all, excitement.

Excitement, at the small, unlikely chance that she was still alive.

Even if it didn’t make sense, even if it went against all reason. Even if he had been the one to pull her dead body from the ceiling himself.

If he had the chance to see her again…just once more…

He was going to take it.

—–

Tom vaguely remembered that town she spoke of, in the letter.

Silent hill.

They went there once, for their honeymoon. It was a foggy little town, ways out in the middle of nowhere. Although it was scarcely populated, it was beautiful.

Helena had a strange obsession with the town, and she begged him constantly to take her back. But he was the type to enjoy the hustle and bustle of people, and the town was far too quiet for his liking.

Quiet to the point of being unsettling.

So although she begged him practically every year, he would always dredge up some excuse as to why they couldn’t go.

But now here he was, on his way to that very town against all sense.

“This place…isn’t it a bit too creepy for a resort?” Jennifer’s voice broke the silence in the car, and reminded him that he was not alone. Her eyes were trained outside the window, with furrowed brows.

Tom ground his teeth in frustration. He couldn’t come up with a proper excuse, as to why he wanted to leave so suddenly without arousing suspicion.

So…he disguised the trip as a mini-vacation, for the both of them. It would have been extremely preferable if he came alone… but he’d figure something out, eventually.

“It’s supposed to be a quiet, peaceful getaway. We’ve been needing some of that for a while now,” Tom said, in a nonchalant tone. “Besides, it’s only for a day or two.”

“Eh…I guess,” Jennifer still sounded thoroughly unconvinced, as they passed by the dilapidated welcome sign of the town. “I just thought it’d be, I don’t know…well kept?”

“It’s a part of the charm.” Tom wasn’t sure if he wanted to convince her, or himself with that statement.

Jen had a point. It’s been years since he came to this place, but he remembered that there was a decent amount of people that lived here.

Although the area was indeed very quiet…it definitely wasn’t a ghost town like he was seeing.

They were well inside the town now, but they still had yet to see anyone. The oppressive fog didn’t help matters either. He glanced down at the map on his lap, just to make sure they were going in the right direction.

“Hey…do you think we should just turn around? It looks pretty abandoned,”

Jennifer worried at her lip, her expression uncertain.

“…Like I said. A part of the charm. We’ll see some people, eventually.”

He could feel her anxiety from the passenger seat, and it started to affect his own mood.

The only thing that kept him from turning the car around, was Helena. The prospect of possibly seeing her again was too great a temptation.

But the question is…where was she, exactly?

Helena mentioned something about a ‘special’ place in the letter. That she’d be waiting for him there. But there were just so many possibilities… because this whole town was their special place.

Did she mean the park, by the lake? They would spend hours sitting on the bench…just the two of them, staring at the water. In their own little world.

Could Helenatruly be alive…waiting for him there? The man who betrayed her so cruelly?

“Tom…Tom!!”

At Jen’s sudden screech, Tom hit the brakes immediately, which caused the car to lurch forward violently.

He looked at her, as his heart thrummed against his chest, “What, what is it!”

“There.. right there, there was… there was..!”

She looked absolutely terrified, as she stared outside of the passenger window.

“Jen, calm down! What did you see?”

She didn’t look at him at all, and continued to stare outside the window, “In the fog. I saw a lady..and she.. she looked like… she was just right there..!”

Tom couldn’t make sense of what she wanted to say at all. He pinched the bridge of his nose, and addressed her once again, “I know you’re paranoid, Jen. But please, just calm down. It was probably just a resident.”

He really wished he came here alone all the more.

Jennifer was really shaken up, for whatever reason. And she went silent for the rest of the ride. Though, he certainly wasn’t about to complain about that.

Eventually, they saw a large building in the distance, right alongside the lake they’d been driving by.

Lake View Hotel. The same hotel where he stayed with Helena, on their honeymoon.

“…We’re here.”

Tom parked right by the curb of the sidewalk, a reasonable distance from the building.

But…something wasn’t quite right.

When he first came here with Helena, he clearly remembered that the hotel was on the other side of the lake, and they had to cross it with a rowboat. It was surrounded by a body of water, after all. And it was only accessible by a boardwalk.

However, the building was on this side instead. Completely opposite from what he remembered.

He decided not to think too deeply about it, though. Years had passed, and things might’ve changed.

“Wait, we’re getting out here?!” Jennifer asked in disbelief, her voice raised. The area was run-down, foggy, and quite frankly, disgusting. Tom couldn’t even blame her for her discomfort.

“Yes, Jen. There’s nowhere else to park,” he said, and exited the car first. “Come on, before it starts to get dark.”

Jennifer left the car with extreme hesitancy, and crossed her arms to hug herself. “Tom…this…this is like a freaking ghost town! Are you sure we can’t just…go somewhere else?” She tried to reason with him…but it was like he was another person entirely when he replied.

“If that’s what you want to do, I won’t stop you. Take the car.” He answered curtly, and began to walk ahead of her.

“I…what? Wait, please, Tom!” She ran up to him, and grabbed his arm, “What do you mean take the car?! You know I can’t drive. And I can’t just leave you behind! This…this isn’t like you,” Jennifer attempted to turn him towards her, but he remained stiff.

“…Did you ever really know me, Jen?”

When he finally looked at her, Jennifer took a step back due to his scary expression. “Because I don’t think you do. Not like Lena did anyway.”

“Len…Helena? Why..what does she have to do with this?!”

Jen immediately went on the defensive, and matched his hostile energy.

“She has everything to do with this! You were her friend, and she was my wife. Yet you refuse to even talk about her-”

“She killed herself! She left us behind! Even before that, she treated you like shit! She broke your heart…and I was the one who picked up the fucking pieces!”

The argument had escalated extremely quickly. But Tom didn’t care.

“How..how fucking dar-”

Tom didn’t even get to finish his sentence. He had blinked his eyes for even less than a second.

And then she was gone.

Tom was stunned, and didn’t register what happened.

His mouth was left open as the sentence died on his lips.

“Huh..?”

He looked around disoriented, whiplashed, and confused.

What? How? Where..What?

These were the questions that ran rampant inside his mind, as he looked about frantically for the woman he was just fighting with.

Jennifer was just right there, in front of him. He even remembered her angered expression clearly. But he had barely blinked his eyes before she disappeared into thin air.

She didn’t even scream.

Tom’s bones were weak from fear and confusion. He felt nauseous.

“..Jen? Jennifer? Jennifer!” He began to walk ahead, almost running, and screamed into the fog.

He walked around the area, and yelled her name like that for what felt like hours. But what answered him back were the endless echoes beyond the mist.

“Where…where the hell..?” Tom was out of breath, his body wrought with fear and exhaustion. He brought his hands to his knees and hunched over.

He came here to find Helena. He just wanted to see his wife again, to talk to her one last time. Even if it were some sort of delusion he concocted to stay sane.

But now..even Jennifer was…

He tried not to think about that possibility. Jennifer had to be alright. She had somewhere in this godforsaken town.  

Tom looked up from his knees, and up at the large building ahead. Lakeview hotel.

He was going to start there.

Inside the hotel was a stark contrast to the rest of the town. While the outside was in a state of disrepair…the inside of the hotel remained untouched by time. In fact…it was just as he remembered.

The only difference was…the lights were almost dim to the point of darkness, and he needed to use his phone light for added visibility.

“Jennifer..? Are you in here?” Tom called out, as he walked the halls of the hotel. He passed the receptionist’s desk, and moved towards the elevator in the distance.

Despite the apparent lack of proper electricity, it still seemed to function perfectly.

According to the elevator, there were six floors in total.

And without hesitation, he immediately chose the third floor.

Jennifer could have been on the first two floors, for all he knew. He could have searched every room, every corner.

However..he and Helena stayed in room 312 for their honeymoon.

It was a beautiful room, he remembered. There were large windows, and the view of the lake was extraordinary.

As Tom felt the elevator move, and watched as the numbers slowly rose to three…he recalled a memory.

“Goodness…isn’t it beautiful, Tommy?”

Tom watched as his beloved sat by the window, her hand pressed against the glass.

“I’m so glad we came here…it’s peaceful.”

He laughed, and moved closer to sit next to his wife. He draped his arms around her shoulders, and pulled her closely to his chest.

“I think it’s a bit too peaceful, though. I’m not sure how you convinced me to come, but,”

Tom breathed in the scent of her hair, and closed his eyes. “I agree, it is beautiful. Hazy and mysterious, just like a dream. It reminds me of you.”

Her embarrassed laugh echoed throughout the room, and she nuzzled her head further into his neck. “Hehe…you’re such a charmer.”

She tightened her arms around his body. Her next words were whispered faintly, but he heard her clearly through the quiet of the room.

“But if this is a dream…I don’t ever want to wake up.”

Tom stood inside the room. By the large window, was a figure.

Her hair was a short, dusty blonde, and she wore a white floral dress.

The same dress that Helena wore that day on their honeymoon.

However…his wife was far from blonde.

The only blonde he knew was Jennifer.

“Jen..Jennifer? Is that you..?” She turned to look at him, instead of the window.

As soon as he saw her face, his suspicions were confirmed.

“Oh.. oh thank goodness,” Tom breathed a sigh of relief, thankful that his hunch was correct. He didn’t know why she suddenly appeared in this room, but was pleased that he found her this quickly.

“Jen, you were right. We..we shouldn’t stay here…”

Jennifer only looked at him with a confused expression, and approached him with an air of worry.

“Tommy, did something happen to you? Are you…confusing me with someone else?”

Tom looked at her like she was crazy. “What? Jen, what are you on about..? And why are you wearing that..”

Jennifer had never, not once, referred to him as ‘Tommy’ in the three years they had been together. That was Helena’s endearment, and no one else’s.

She giggled, the sound of it melodic and gentle. “Oh, Tommy…you were always so forgetful. Remember that time, when you got lost trying to find our room at this hotel? I almost had to call a search party!”

She laughed once again, this time unrestrained. He recognized that beautiful laughter.

“Aren’t…” Tom’s throat felt impossibly dry. “Aren’t you Jennifer?”

Jennifer went silent. Her smile deepened, and her eyes darkened from their previous shade of blue.

“It doesn’t matter who I am. I’m here for you, Tom.”

He didn’t move an inch as she approached him.

Slowly, she removed the straps of her dress.

He allowed her to take his hand, and she placed it on top of her naked chest.

Tom didn’t realize it, but his face was drenched with tears. He squeezed the softness of her flesh, and his nails dug to the point it drew blood.

It was warm. He held his blood-stained fingers up to his face.

Before him, stood a woman with dark brown eyes, that would reflect beautifully against the sun.

Before him, stood a woman with the gentlest voice.

Before him, stood a woman with long dark hair, that ended right below her shoulders.

Helena smiled a sickly sweet smile. She took his hand once again, and moved it to cup her face.

“…See? I’m real.”

After hours : Chapter Links

Tags:  @milkymaidme @dangertoozmanykids101@alexakeyloveloki @little-moonbeam-666  @marvel-ous-fics@clovermariear@lynnesm@bitchyikes@moon-child-of-a-poet, @allthecraftandthings@bubblegumspitt @shockwavee @blondekel77 @nerd–nirvana @valdemarismynonbinarylove@nightrose64 @pastelhexmaniac @iistormii

Chapter 15:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/18981376/chapters/59905945

Chapter 16:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/18981376/chapters/61617991#workskin

Chapter 17:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/18981376/chapters/64808503#workskin

Chapter 18:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/18981376/chapters/66365251#workskin

Chapter 19:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/18981376/chapters/67830248#workskin

Chapter 20:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/18981376/chapters/69453555#

workskin

I haven’t been updating here since I’ve been too lazy to transfer the chapters honestly. But, here are the links to the rest of the chapters up to the latest ( The story is still ongoing)

I haven’t been updating my after hours chapters on tumblr (I forgot this existed ngl )

I stopped at chapter 14 I think, it’s up to 18 on AO3! Should I post them here or just put links? I’m so lazy I think I might just do that.

Previous Chapter

Chapters: 14/?

Words: 2400+

Warnings:None

Tags:  @milkymaidme@dangertoozmanykids101@alexakeyloveloki@little-moonbeam-666 @marvel-ous-fics@clovermariear@lynnesm@bitchyikes@moon-child-of-a-poet,@allthecraftandthings@bubblegumspitt@shockwavee@blondekel77@nerd–nirvana@valdemarismynonbinarylove@nightrose64@pastelhexmaniac@iistormii

If you’d like to be added, let me know. I’ve also posted this onAO3

——

Evelyn barely made it halfway down the hall, before she felt Loki’s large hand engulfing her wrist.

Screw him and his long ass legs.

By now the tears had long escaped her eyes, and she’d be damned if she let him see, lest she annoyed him even more.

“Evelyn! Why in the world are you -”

“ - Can I please…just go?” Her face was stubbornly turned away from his, as she attempted to keep her voice steady. But like he so nicely said a few minutes ago, she was easy to read.

“I will not let you go, especially if you’re crying like this,”

Evelyn shrugged her hand out of his grip, surprising them both, “… I’m fine! Like you said, I’m too damn expressive. I’ll get over it.” She said that, but her voice wavered greatly due to tears.

“Please love, follow me back inside. My words were much harsher than intended…I admit that.”

He stepped closer, but she backed away in turn.

“You..you spoke to me like I was fucking slow. Like a child. How was I supposed to know you hated your sister’s fucking guts!”

Her tears flowed freely now, and Evelyn couldn’t help but feel more ashamed. She was always more sensitive than others, so whenever she was reprimanded, yelled at, or scolded in her younger days, tears would immediately follow.

Unfortunately, those feelings had yet to change.

“Evelyn, you are far from slow, and you are not a child. I.. I am sorry. That was not what I meant to imply.”

Loki wasn’t the warmest person in the first place, so he did not know how to comfort others through regular means, not to mention apologizing.

In fact, Evelyn was probably the first person he’d properly apologized to in years.

Simply because in the past he didn’t give two shits how his blunt, unfiltered words affected others. If they understood his point, that was all that mattered.

But as a consequence, he caused the woman he cared for to cry.

“You said what you said, okay?” Evelyn sniffled, wiping the tears from her eyes, “I’m…I’m just gonna go home. I’ll grade the tests there,” she made her way past him to head back to the office. Loki immediately followed, his voice revealing a hint of frustration, “Please do not be like this,”

“Like what? Childish?” She picked up her bag that was lying on the couch once she reached inside, then gathered the pile of tests neatly into her hands, “I need a folder for these, by the way.”

Loki’s face hardened, “If you’re going to leave without speaking to me properly, then yes, you’re being childish. I apologized for how I phrased my words, but my point still stands.”

“Well… I got your point. But this was what you signed up for. An immature, clumsy mess of a woman. I can’t keep secrets for shit, and I’m easy as hell to read. If you thought I’d be anything else…sorry to disappoint.”

Evelyn looked at him with mustered courage, holding out her hand, “A folder, please? Then I’ll leave.”

She could see the gears practically working inside his head, as he stared at her outstretched hand with narrowed eyes.

It took a moment. And without warning, he reached out to grab her by the wrist.

Since the action was sudden, the tests she held against her chest with her free arm fluttered to the floor.

Loki pulled her against him, as he stared down into her widened, startled eyes,

“Immature and clumsy, you say?”

He laughed mirthlessly, and the sound of it sent a shiver down Evelyn’s spine.

"My darling girl, while I am quite infatuated with you… I will only apologize just once. If you cannot sense my sincerity, then I am at a loss.”

She attempted to pull back against his grip, but his hold remained firm, “I am not a gentle man, especially when I am this peeved. So yes, I spoke as if you were incompetent. And no, I will not do so again.”

Loki brought his other hand up to her cheek, staring into her tear-filled eyes, “Because seeing you cry like this is discomforting. Any other time, I would have revelled to be the cause of it.”

He let her go then. Unsurprisingly, Evelyn backed away immediately. “That’s… that’s a weird ass way to apologize…”

“Is it really? I’ve brought you to tears before, but at the time we both enjoyed the reasons why.”

Evelyn was still hurt and put off, but she could not help the way her face heated at his suggestive words. She cleared her throat, hoping to bring her mind out the gutter, “…Anyway, the reason you’re so pissed is because of that lady, Hela. What’s the whole deal with that?”

At the mention of his sister’s name, a scornful expression quickly appeared on his face, “Must I explain? I was actually starting to forget about that horrid encounter.”

“Considering you hurt my feelings because of her, I think that’s pretty fair.”

Loki sighed in resignation. He did feel regretful, so it was the least he could do.

“Due to past…issues between us, she despises me, and the feeling is mutual. I am not sure why she came here personally after all this time, but I could only assume it was to make my life difficult. Evidently, I was correct.”

“Oh…” Evelyn chewed at her bottom lip, now feeling worried, “ I didn’t know it was like that…she won’t cause us any trouble, right? Like tell anyone about us, or..?”

“Not necessarily. While she’s certainly curious, I doubt she cares that much at the moment to take action. However…seeing her brought back unpleasant memories, and I imparted my agitation upon you,”

Evelyn did not step away this time when he moved toward her, and allowed him to slowly pull her into an embrace, “ I was worried about what she might have done and said to you if she discovered we were together, as she is still quite vengeful. I truly did not mean to patronize you.”

She listened patiently to his reasoning. Evelyn was clueless as to what kind of history the siblings shared, but it must be particularly bad to have affected his mood this much.

“As long as you know. I’m…I’m just really sensitive, and I hate being talked to like that in general. Especially by you.”

“I know, my dear. I will mind my tone in the future,”

He tightened his hold, kissing the top of her head, “How shall I make it up to you?”

Evelyn pulled away from him slowly, putting a smile on her face as she spoke quietly, “Um, I’ll think about it. But I just need some time to myself right now…”

Her heart dropped when his face transformed into a frown. Loki probably thought she was going to stay with him, but she needed space to evaluate how she currently felt. He apologized and she acknowledged that - but a part of her couldn’t help but still feel unsettled.

Loki fixed his expression immediately, his smile mirroring hers in its falsity, “If that is how you feel, then I won’t force you to stay. I will take you home,”

“Uh…actually, I want to walk home this time. It’s a nice evening out, so…”

Evelyn didn’t feel like riding in his car at the moment, especially with the tension currently between them. Aside from that, the fresh air would do good to clear her thoughts.

However, the look Loki gave her right then almost changed her mind.

Evelyn thought he was going to chastise her once more. But instead, Loki closed his eyes as he spoke in a deceptively calm manner,

“I am not entirely comfortable with you walking by yourself… especially since it has gotten late. But so be it,”

Before Evelyn could even breathe a sigh of relief, her professor interjected once more, “ Since that is the case, I will accompany you on your walk home.”

“What?” Her voice was louder than intended, but that was the last thing she expected him to say.

“Well, I mean, don’t you have work to do? And, like, I’ve walked home alone plenty of times, you don’t need to go out of your way…”

“You are my partner now. While I acknowledge your autonomy and independence, I prioritize your safety above all else.”

She became momentarily speechless, her mouth closing and opening as she tried to gather up another excuse, “Well, I mean, we can’t be seen walking together…and stuff. That might be suspicious right? Especially considering the whole thing with your sister…”

“Walking together is not a filthy act. We will be fine,”

Loki turned around to return to his desk, picking up his jacket from the hanger right next to it. He looked at the tests still strewn about on the floor, then back to Evelyn. “We will grade these…exams another time. With much focus. ”

—————————–

“Do you walk this distance every day?” Loki said after a while, as he walked side by side with Evelyn. Well, they were side by side - but she insisted that they remain a reasonable distance apart from each other, despite the fact that they were no longer on campus.

Evelyn blamed it mostly on paranoia, but she was actually just feeling petty. If someone wronged her in any way, she held onto that resentment for at least a day or more. Even if they apologized.

So Loki accompanied her mostly in silence, as he probably sensed she was still feeling a bit bitter. If he thought that was childish, he made no indication that he thought so.

Evelyn jumped a bit, his voice pulling her from her thoughts, “Uhm…yeah. It’s not that bad, just a half an hour walk.”

“..It is no wonder you were always late for classes. Does your sister not drive?”

“She does…but I just like the scenery. And I’m good at speed-walking.”

At her answer, Loki’s brows furrowed.

While the area where Evelyn lived wasn’t all that bad, it wasn’t good either. The streets were covered in litter, with the odd stench here and there as they passed by the shops and delis. The only good aspect he observed was the abundance of trees since there was a park in the vicinity.

Loki frankly thought it was filthy, but he kept that bit to himself.

“It is…nice. I suppose.”

Evelyn didn’t seem to notice his disdain and only smiled faintly at his answer, “I mean, it could be better. But I try to enjoy the little beauty in things, Y’know?”

Loki remained quiet as she said so, his expression thoughtful at her words.

The rest of the walk continued in silence, and Evelyn only piped up once more when she saw that they reached her apartment.

“Well, we’re here…” Evelyn stopped in front of the staircase leading up to the building, turning to face him. The air between them wasn’t all that pleasant still, judging from his stiff posture.

There was an awkward silence between them now as they stared at each other, neither unsure of what to do next.

Did she kiss him goodbye now? No, she still felt off. Then a small hug?

While she pondered her options, Evelyn didn’t see that her sister had exited the building, humming a tune as she did so.

Candice stopped right in her tracks once she saw the pair below the stairs.

“Uhh…Eve?”

Both Loki and Evelyn’s gazes shot up towards the stairs instantly at the sound of her voice.

“Wait…is this…?” Candice’s finger pointed to Loki, as she looked down at them in astonishment.

Evelyn was frozen, whilst Loki’s expression was rather hard to decipher.

“Is this professor Laufeyson?!” Candice shot down the steps in record time, her body radiating with excitement.

“I…um, yeah..?” Evelyn replied awkwardly, still shaken by Candice’s unexpected intrusion.

Candice didn’t seem to read the awkwardness in the air though, judging by her next words, “Holy crap, so it is? Well damn, he’s even finer in person -“

Before Evelyn could reply in aghast and embarrassment at her sister’s bold words, Loki piped up with confidence, unperturbed. “Candice, correct?” Loki held out his hand for a handshake, which she stared at for a moment before taking it, “ Your sister speaks much about you.”

“Oh does she now?” She quirked a brow in question in Evelyn’s direction, before looking back to Loki, “Well, I hope it was all good! She tells me a lot about you too, Mr. Laufeyson.”

“Then I assume Evelyn informed you about us? And please, just Loki is fine.”

Evelyn stood in silence, observing the two as she marinated in nervousness. The tension between her and Loki was already off as is with what happened, and she hoped Candice didn’t worsen it with her choice of words.

“Yeah, I know y’all seeing each other. Wanna come inside actually? I just made some dinner and you can join us. I wanna know more about how y’all met-”

Evelyn’s head whipped towards Candice. What now?

She interjected immediately in alarm at her sister’s chatter, “ I - Candice, hold up would you! Loki’s busy and he has to walk back, you can’t just -“

“If you would have me, then I shall join you.”  He looked towards Evelyn, her mouth still open after stopping mid-sentence, “ That is, if Evelyn is fine with that.”

“Of course she is! Right, Evie?”

Both of them turned to look at her for a response, and she couldn’t help but feel pressured. “I - of course I don’t mind… but weren’t you just about to leave Candice? And Loki…you don’t have to feel obligated to stay or anything,”

“I was just gonna take a lil jog. But nope, changed my mind!”

“I want to stay not out of obligation but to spend more time with you. This is far from bothersome.”

They spoke one after another, backing her into a corner. She had no good reason to argue, so Evelyn couldn’t help but eventually relent.

“I…okay. If it isn’t any trouble to you…”

“Let’s head inside then! I hope you like curry chicken Loki cause that’s all I made,”

“That sounds absolutely delightful,”

And so, Evelyn followed behind them helplessly as they trudged up the steps to her apartment, uncertainty piling inside her gut.

Previous Chapter

Summary: After sex, comes the bliss… right?

Chapters: 13/?

Words: 2800+

Warnings:None

Tags:  @milkymaidme@dangertoozmanykids101@alexakeyloveloki@little-moonbeam-666 @marvel-ous-fics@clovermariear@lynnesm@bitchyikes@moon-child-of-a-poet,@allthecraftandthings@bubblegumspitt@shockwavee@blondekel77@nerd–nirvana@valdemarismynonbinarylove@nightrose64@pastelhexmaniac@iistormii

If you’d like to be added, let me know. I’ve also posted this onAO3

A/N:  Sorry for the delay, still in the midst of final projects. Motivation to complete work/writing has been a bit slow, and I’ve been trying to think up new plot points. I’ve been stuck, lol. Anyway, enjoy!

—————————-

Evelyn should’ve expected this, but she had no idea that she would be thissore.

After the shower, they both became somewhat insatiable. It was as though Loki couldn’t get enough of her, and she of him. The taboo of their relationship spurred on their lust, the need to be connected to each other in every way possible great. So like he had promised, he fucked her into the late hours of the night.

 While she was grateful that her first time was far from terrible…she made a mental note to learn her limits. She thought the idea of getting fucked silly by the man she pined for would be a dream come true - but the effects on her body afterwards was kind of a bitch.

Evelyn hopped and limped all the way to Loki’s car when they left his house early in the morning, wincing with every step. She attributed the amount of pain she was in due to the fact that she was simply not used to sex, and her professor’s size was considerable. 

Perhaps the more they did it, the less pain there would be overtime?

Just the thought of a ‘next time’ in Loki’s bed was enough to set off another wave of butterflies inside her stomach. Whatever pain she was in right now, it was worth it.

Loki, however, had long noticed Evelyn’s plight - in fact, he even had the gall to tease her about it, offering to carry her up the steps to her door like a princess once they reached her apartment.

He sounded pretty serious about it too, so Evelyn couldn’t help but blush even though she knew he was just messing around. It was going to be a challenge getting used to his playful side…

Evelyn promised him that she’d stop by his office later on in the day, to resume her duties as his TA. Since she wouldn’t be able to attend the Monday lecture to help out this time around for obvious reasons, the least she could do was grade some exams. 

She dreaded grading, especially since it was math( another reason why she skipped meetings in the beginning…) but now that the dynamic between her and Loki has changed considerably, she was actually looking forward to being productive in his presence.

 They parted with a kiss, and Evelyn made her way to her apartment door slowly. Now, she just had to try to walk inside like there wasn’t a stick up her ass.

To Evelyn’s surprise and dismay, Candice was waiting for her on the couch, a cup of hot cocoa in hand as she watched her hop through the front door.

Evelyn was secretly banking on the fact that she had left for work already, since Candice mentioned offhandedly that she took up more shifts at her hospital.

 But alas, the shit-eating grin that was plastered on Candice’s face meant that she must’ve called in sick to witness Evelyn’s limp of shame, first thing.

“Well! I’ll be damned,”

Evelyn stubbornly ignored her in embarrassment as she limped past the couch to head to her room, but Candice set down her mug to follow her, giggling like a fool, “He busted that cherry so hard he got you hoppin’ like a bunny! Sheesh…”

“Not now, Candice…” Her face felt hot, desperately wishing her sister had some sort of filter.

“Did y'all use a rubber? Did he hurt you? Because if he hurt you Eve -”

Candice was going to badger her until all was answered, so Evelyn relented with a grimace, hoping she would leave her alone after she was satisfied,

“ No! He didn’t hurt me…and yes, we used protection. Each time.”

“Each ti- each time?! How many times did y’all fu- ”

Evelyn cut her off before she could finish, “I’ll answer all the juicy deets later, okay!? I didn’t have time to shower before we left, and I wanna do that now. Please?”

Candice realized she was being a bit overbearing, backing off a bit. Evelyn was extremely fun to tease and make fun off, but she knew her sister had limits,

 “Sorry, sorry. My baby sister never seemed the type to be interested in sex or anything before…so to do it with a professor of all people for your first time! And a kinky one! Don’t blame me for being interested and concerned…”

Evelyn ignored the kinky comment, limping inside her room as she replied, “I mean, is the professor thing really that big a deal? I’m technically just a former student of his…”

“Not really, you already know how my hoe phase was. Fucked a few teachers in my college days. But you have to be careful with these older men Eve, since you’re new to this sort of thing. Don’t get attached. Especially if his dick game’s good, he will manipulate the hell outta you,”

“…Speaking from experience?”

“Yep. Found out this guy was a whole married man and I still went back to fuck. Good dick messes with your morals sis,”

Evelyn had a hard time taking her words seriously since Candice lacked morals in the first place, but pretended to agree so she could leave her be,

“I’ll make sure to be careful, okay? Can I shower now?”

“Yeah yeah, we’ll talk more later. Remember what I said, hmm?”

And with that, Candice left her room with a skip to her step.

Evelyn didn’t bother processing her sister’s warning, going straight to the shower to relieve her sore muscles.

——————————–

By the time Evelyn made her way unto the campus, the pain had lessened considerably. She still had to walk a bit carefully, but she didn’t feel as raw as before. While she showered, she also noticed bruises alongside her hip and waist - she even had to use more than a bit of makeup to cover the new ones Loki had ‘affectionately’ placed in plain sight on her neck.

She was especially hard to bruise, so she was baffled at the amount she currently had.

Evelyn thought that she should at least feel miffed about it, but somehow the thought of being marked as his, in any way, sent a thrill through her being. Even when he was rough at some points…

I had sex just once and I’m already a deviant…hehe.

Evelyn was quite busy daydreaming about the naughty events from last night, that she didn’t see the tall figure standing in her way as she headed towards Loki’s office.

‘Oof!’

As expected, she collided straight into the person’s side, yelping in the process.

“Oh shit - I’m sorry, I wasn’t paying attention…”

She looked up apologetically at the woman in front of her - lithe and pale, with narrowed blue eyes that accentuated her intimidating presence. 

Perhaps because she also had dark hair and sharp facial features, she saw a vague resemblance to Loki.

“Obviously, you weren’t,” the woman replied curtly, before giving a tight smile,

“But, I’ll forgive you if you were to lend some assistance.”

Her tone carried a sort of cold arrogance, as Evelyn shrunk underneath her stare. She even had Loki’s accent…

“Uh…of course! How can I help…?” Although she was in a bit of a rush to get to where she needed to be, she did not want the woman in front of her to be any more pissed off than she already seemed to look.

She showed Evelyn a map of the campus that was in her hands, pointing at the building she wanted to head to, “This map is much too complicated for me, and I’m trying to look for this building. I need to find someone, and this is where his office is apparently.”

“Oh, I’m actually heading there!” Evelyn was glad that the woman pointed towards the science department - the campus was fairly large, and she barely knew half of the map. “If you don’t mind me asking, who’re you trying to find? I can show you to them directly…”

She didn’t have to go the extra mile, merely walk with her to the building. But Evelyn had always been a people pleaser.

“Ah, I’m looking for my brother. Are you a student of his, perhaps? I do know that he teaches here…Loki Odinson. Or Laufeyson, whatever he wants to go by nowadays.”

“Brother? You’re Loki’s sister?” Evelyn asked in a surprised tone, voice elevated. He did mention he two had siblings during their date, but he never went into detail about anything.

The woman looked at her oddly, a small chuckle leaving her lips, “Well, you certainly sound quite familiar with him.”

Evelyn realized her mistake, hastily rushing to fix it. Loki was fine with Candice knowing everything, but she still wasn’t sure about his side of the family. 

“Oh, about that…I usually just call all the professors by their names, haha…”

“My brother really dislikes being referred to in an informal manner, so I find the idea of him allowing that unlikely.”

“…..”

Evelyn was momentarily speechless, akin to a deer in headlights. 

“Uhm, you see, I -“

“No need to explain,” the woman stepped closer, a bit too close for comfort as she scrutinized Evelyn’s face, “You’re his exact type, you know. Short, timid, pretty. He’s probably quite taken with you…” 

As she looked her up and down, a spark of realization lit her eyes..

“Miss…you’re stepping out of line here.”

She was assuming way too much, for just a minor slip up. And who spoke like this to someone they just met? 

“Oh, It’s just harmless teasing,” she stepped back, her smile starting to look a lot more natural. 

She pulled out her hand for a handshake, “ Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Hela. Hela Odinson. And you?”

Evelyn gave a momentary look of reluctance before accepting the handshake, “Uhm, Evelyn Monroe. Nice to meet you, I guess?”

Hela’s smile became broader, “Let’s walk and talk, hmm?”

Evelyn was very uncomfortable, but started to walk regardless.

As they made their way towards Loki’s office, Hela, surprisingly, insisted on making small talk. Evelyn pegged her for the cold and silent type like her brother, but she was entirely the opposite. She asked general questions about what Evelyn did, her age, etc. But unfortunately, she also kept asking suggestive questions, hoping for another slip up on her end.

“I haven’t spoken to my brother in a while, so I’m clueless as to how he’s doing. Does he treat you well, Evelyn?”

Hela began adopting a familiar and warmer tone, softening Evelyn’s first impression. It succeeded in lulling her into a sense of minor comfort, “Oh, he treats me very well. I mean, he’s pretty nice to all of his students, most times…” 

“Hm, that’s surprising. His personality is treacherous, so I expected the opposite.”

Evelyn looked at her quizzically. For his sister, she sure spoke like she disliked him to a large degree.

“Since I like you, I’ll give you a bit of advice,”

Hela turned to look at her then, meeting her eyes,

“Don’t get too attached to a man like Loki, especially if he thinks you’re a temporary plaything. He gets… annoyed, quite easily. You weren’t the only one he happened to fancy so much in the past…so I’d know.”

….?!??

“Excuse me, but what -“ Evelyn started, but then the dark, pissed off voice of her professor sounded from behind them.

“Hela,”

His face was pulled into a tight scowl, trained directly at his sister, “ What nonsense are you spewing?”

Loki appeared behind them suddenly out of thin air, startling the wits out of Evelyn. Before she could ponder the possibility that he had magical powers, she realized they just passed the lecture hall where his class was, on the way to his office.

“I took time out of my busy schedule to see you, dear brother…one would think you’d sound a bit more affectionate. Hasn’t it been a year since we last spoke?”

“Slither back to whatever hell you came from, woman.”

“Well, I suppose that’s close enough.”

Evelyn looked back and forth between the two, the tension thick and uncomfortable. They were in the middle of the hallway and students still wandered about, so she decided to make an exit. She wanted no part in whatever mystery family drama that was unfolding…and she needed time to ponder over Hela’s words.

I’ll ask just him about this later…

“So…um. I’m gonna go ahead to the office, okay? Grade those papers…yippee…”

She added awkwardly, slowly backing away.

Loki looked at her then. She hoped his face would soften a bit, but it didn’t. 

“I’ll be there shortly. This won’t take long.”

His answers were short and clipped, so she knew he was pissed. 

She didn’t do anything wrong to her knowledge, so she blamed his mood all on his sister. 

Before Evelyn left, Hela addressed her one last time.

“It was lovely meeting you, sweetheart. I’m sure we’ll see each other again…”

“Oh. Uhm, yeah. Nice meeting you too…”

Evelyn didn’t waste anymore time, leaving the pair once she saw Loki’s worsening expression.

———————

Hela’s words from before repeated inside her head, filling her with a sense of paranoia. But, she had no reason to be paranoid, right? Loki said they were exclusive, after all. He said he wanted her to be his woman. No, she was his woman. And he made sure of that last night.

Evelyn stubbornly pushed her anxieties aside into the far crevice of her mind, reassuring herself with his words. Although Hela was his sister, she and Loki clearly weren’t on good terms. She could’ve said that in order to sabotage their suspected relationship.

God, this is giving me a damn headache…

She settled in Loki’s office, taking the stack of exams from his desk and got comfortable on the couch. She hoped grading and correcting complicated equations would fry her brain enough to stop the fretting, as she waited for him to come.

Loki appeared after about fifteen minutes, and Evelyn bolted upright once she heard him enter.

“Oh, Loki! I went ahead and started…”

She paused mid sentence when she saw his expression.

“…Grading…”

Why did it feel like she was in some sort of trouble? The heck?

His face didn’t change much from when he spoke to Hela, so it made her nervous.

Evelyn just opted to stay quiet for now. She’d ask about Hela later once he looked a little less pissed off. She was his girlfriend now, but she still felt his authoritative presence especially when they were on campus.

Well, she was going to stay quiet, until his deep voice resounded inside the room.

“I’m curious about something, Evelyn.”

Uh oh. Why’s he using that voice?

“How did that…woman, know that we were involved with each other?”

“Uh…woman? I mean, I thought she said she was your sister…?”

“That isn’t the answer to my question.”

Inwardly, Evelyn felt whiplashed. Everything was so dandy this morning and last night…so how did things take such a strange turn so quickly?

“Look, when she told me she was your sister, I said your first name on impulse. That’s literally it! She assumed stuff based on that one thing…”

Evelyn put the papers on her lap to the side, feeling frustrated, “And…it really isn’t that big a deal, right? You said that people outside the school could know. You were fine with Candice knowing, so why not -”

He cut her off before she could finish,

“Darling, let me say this in a way that you can comprehend," 

In…in a way that I can comprehendddd? Did he just call me stupid eloquently?

Evelyn was stunned into silence as Loki spoke, and he moved to stand above her as she sat rigidly on the couch. "Such a simple mistake, regardless of who it was, is monumental. Your words weren’t what gave you away, Evelyn. But your body language. You’re entirely too expressive for your own good,”

He sighed a disappointed sigh, moving away to pinch the bridge of his nose, “At any rate, I can live with Hela knowing…but for future reference, avoid her. At all costs.”

Loki looked at her then, eyes stern, “Do you understand what I’m saying? Or should I elaborate further?”

Evelyn was honestly a bit speechless. She felt extremely put off and mildly hurt… that he spoke to her like she was a child, rather than his lover.

She really hated herself right now. Was she actually about to cry? He would seriously think she was childish, if this was how she was going to react.

Tears wouldn’t do her any favors, especially once he was in this kind of mood anyway.

Why am I so fucking sensitive?!

She sighed shakily, swallowing the knot in her throat as she replied, “Yeah…I got it.”

“Good, then." 

He moved casually to sit behind his desk, attempting to soften his tone with his next words, "You can work for maybe half an hour, then I’d like to treat you to dinner. Seeing that woman left an unpleasant taste… but spending more time with you should remedy that.”

She didn’t reply, and only stared at the floor.

“… Evelyn?”

When she glanced up, he saw that her large, hazel eyes were shimmering with unshed tears.

”I’m… I’m going to use the restroom, okay? I’ll be back,”

She got up quickly. And before he could properly react, she promptly went to exit the room.

————–

A/N:  Your thoughts bring me joy, I greatly appreciate each and every one! Please let me know what you thought :)

Previous Chapter

Summary:  A night in Loki’s bed~

Chapters: 12/?

Words: 1800+

Warnings: smut

Tags:  @milkymaidme@dangertoozmanykids101@alexakeyloveloki@little-moonbeam-666 @marvel-ous-fics@clovermariear@lynnesm@bitchyikes@moon-child-of-a-poet,@allthecraftandthings@bubblegumspitt@shockwavee@blondekel77@nerd–nirvana@valdemarismynonbinarylove@nightrose64@pastelhexmaniac@iistormii

If you’d like to be added, let me know. I’ve also posted this onAO3

———–

“Mm…”

Evelyn’s eyes were heavy as she slowly opened them, her body as light as a feather, soaked in post-nut bliss. The last thing she remembered was her professor’s cock as he fucked the soul right out of her, before promptly passing out from the overwhelming pleasure.

Evelyn thought it would be morning, but it seemed only a few minutes had passed since she fainted.

She felt wet, hot kisses alongside her neck and shoulder, the strong arms of her lover cradling her from behind. Evelyn’s mind was still hazy from her orgasm, and her mumbled words almost sounded incoherent to the ear, “wha…what happened…?”

Loki stopped his kisses at the sound of her voice, and she could feel his naked chest rumble against her back as he chuckled lightly, “You passed out, pet,” he turned her around to face him fully, kissing her lips, “How do you feel?“

”…Like I’m in a dream,“ Evelyn said airily, her eyes lidded. She cuddled closer to him, nuzzling her nose against his neck, “And I don’t wanna move…”

“Thank goodness,” he breathed, relief palpable in his voice, “ I lost control of myself for a moment. I feared I may have hurt you inadvertently,”

“Um, only a little. But…I really liked it,” Evelyn hid her face further into his neck, feeling a little shy. He did get slightly rougher towards the end, but she enjoyed that much more than she expected.

She felt so blissful and listless, that she didn’t want to leave his embrace for the foreseeable future. She wanted to lie there in his arms all night, and into the morning.

But…did Loki want her to stay?

She assumed he did, he hadn’t said anything about taking her home yet… but he had a lecture early in the morning and she had no extra clothes.

Evelyn decided not to bring it up, and hoped he was just as content with her being there as she was.

However, she started to panic inwardly when he began to shift into an upright position, looking as if he wanted to get up from the bed.

Without thinking, she hurriedly wrapped her arms around him, preventing him from moving any further, “Uh… where’re you goin’?”

Loki raised a brow in an amused fashion, a smile tugging at his lips, “ To the bathroom, pet. I’m in need of a shower,” he removed her arms that hugged his torso in a gentle fashion, still keeping her close, “Care to join me?”

“!”

Although they had literally just fucked, Evelyn still managed to feel weird about the notion of taking a shower with Loki. His head had been between her legs, for goodness sake. What else was there to be coy about?

Perhaps because taking a shower with a man, in such a close space, seemed extremely intimate to her.

"Uhm, yeah! Can I… really join?”

She hurried out with a reply, since she noticed that she was staring at him dumbly for a few seconds.

He chuckled, moving fully off of the bed, “Well, I asked for a reason.”

She watched as his naked form walked from the bed and to double doors at the end of the room - which she assumed led to the bathroom - and opened them ajar, “ Are you coming, darling?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah, I’m coming!” Evelyn was distracted once again by his naked body - more specifically, his ass. So she didn’t notice he was waiting for her at the door.

She went to stand, but then her legs started to shake and buckle, and she placed a hand on the side table quickly for stability, yelping in surprise at the loss of balance.

Because of certain activities, Evelyn’s legs felt as good as a newborn deer.

Loki noticed her struggle instantly, and he was by her side in a flash. Instead of concern however, the smile on his face looked a bit too satisfied, “ Hold onto me, I’ll carry you.”

She gave him an aggrieved look, but accepted his assistance until her legs felt okay again.

When they reached, she failed to mask her surprise at how large the bathroom actually was. She let go of him, stepping towards a glass shower with an attached Jacuzzi.

If this ain’t the fanciest shit I’ve ever seen…

Evelyn also noticed that his shower had a very nice view of the night sky, since it was basically right next to a large glass window. And that there were no curtains obstructing said view.

“Uhm, do you have curtains…? For the window?” There was a startling lack of privacy - anyone could look up from below the house and watch them in all their naked glory.

Loki only gave her a confused look,” Why would I?”

“But, but anyone outside could see…“

Granted, his neighbors weren’t anywhere close. But it still nagged at her.

“Then, let’s hope they enjoy the show.”

No longer paying her any mind, he took a hold of her hand to lead her into the shower. It was rather spacious, so they weren’t cramped together. Not that she would’ve minded, anyway.

As he turned on the shower, Evelyn couldn’t help glancing out the window once again. It was pitch black with the exception of the stars, so it was actually very romantic. But she still wasn’t used to being this…exposed.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Loki touched her bare shoulders, the spray of the water now pelting against their skin, “While you enjoy the view, I’ll help you shower.”

“…Help me? How-” She was silenced once she felt cool liquid pouring down her back, and she shivered at the unexpected sensation.

“Like this,” he said simply, lathering her shoulders with the soap. He applied a bit of pressure here and there as his fingers glided across her skin, and her eyes fluttered shut at his touch, soft moans escaping her lips. It was innocent and relaxing so far, just having him touch her this way. But his attention then slowly transitioned towards her breasts.

“ -Hm!” They were still pretty sensitive from before. So when his hands reached underneath to cup them, her backside jerked against his groin, ”Ah, still tender aren’t they? I’ll be gentle,” Loki took an especially long time lathering her breasts with soap, playing with her nipples as he did so.

Evelyn’s hands went to cover his, her ass grinding against the cock pressed against her lower back. Her vision was starting to get hazy with the steam from the water, and her mind was once again enveloped with euphoria.

“I love every part of you. But I must admit… these are especially my favorite,”

“If…if you keep doing this, I…”

“Doing what, pet? I’m only helping you wash. Thoroughly.” He replied in a mischievous manner, never ceasing his pinching and tugging.

After a while, he leaned down to whisper into her ear, voice hoarse with lust, “Part your legs for me.”

With her body pliant in his hands, Evelyn didn’t dare disobey. She parted them immediately, and he abandoned her breasts to descend downward. Using both hands, he began to spread her lips with his devious fingers.

“…Ah!” She couldn’t keep still, fidgeting as his fingers explored the depths of her warmth. Evelyn felt over-stimulated from their earlier tryst, so for him to touch her again so soon…

She gripped his arms, her eyes squeezing shut.

“Keep squirming, and I’ll have to punish you,” Loki’s voice was deceptively gentle as he continued his relentless probing, “You are making it quite difficult to clean.”

Evelyn had no idea what this ‘punishment’ would entail, and she did not want to find out. However, he didn’t exactly make it easy.

It didn’t take long before she became a shuddering mess in his arms, her arousal hardly distinguishable from the water dripping down her thighs.

“Naughty thing, cumming while I’m only helping you wash,” he tutted in a scolding manner, removing his hands from between her legs to show her the stringy arousal between his fingers.

She watched in astonishment as he brought a hand to his lips, suckling her juices into his mouth.

“Why…why are you like this…?” Evelyn whispered, unsure of how to react to his perverted display.

“Hmm…why indeed?” He then turned her around to face him, handing her the bottle of soap, “Now my turn.”

”…Huh?”

“Hard of hearing, aren’t you?”

Evelyn scrunched up her brows, grabbing the bottle from his grasp,” I…I heard you.”

Loki only smiled amusedly at her peeved expression, “Then get to washing, little one. I can’t be the only one working hard here.”

He certainly worked hard alright, if the appendage bobbing between them was any indication.

Evelyn attempted to ignore it, pouring soap into her hands before reaching up to lather his shoulders.

His muscles felt firm underneath her fingers, her mind trailing off as her hands went into his long, wet hair.  “…You know,”

Evelyn wasn’t sure what prompted her to say what she did next, but her heart felt so full and happy, she couldn’t help but express it, “I still can’t believe I’m with you now…like this,” she pressed her face against his bare chest, hugging him underneath the spray of the water, “ Just over a year ago, this was…a fantasy to me. You were good to look at, a crush I couldn’t even attempt to try and touch. My beautiful professor,”

Loki laughed lightly at the compliment, taken aback, “ Beautiful?”

Evelyn snorted, “ Pfft, that’s what you focused on? And yeah, you’re a pretty man. Just my type.”

“Pretty man, now that’s a first,” She looked up from his chest to see him smiling serenely at her, his gaze so tender…

“You have no idea how much of a fantasy you were to me as well, my dear Evelyn.”

They exited the shower after a while, fully refreshed and content. Well, she should’ve felt content, but nerves once again bubbled into her stomach once she thought about having to leave.

He was probably expecting her to put on the dirty clothes strewn about on the floor, so he could take her home -

“Ah, perhaps I should remind you,” Loki interrupted her internal panic, sauntering casually to the bed as he removed the towel covering his lower half, “ Tell your sister you won’t be going back tonight, if you haven’t already. I would hate to have her worry without reason,”

Loki paused as he began to lift the covers, shooting her a raised brow in query, “Unless… you didn’t intend to stay?”

Relief fell on her shoulders like a ton of bricks, and she wondered if it was visible on her face at that moment.

“ I’m staying! I mean…I want to stay the night. I’ll let her know…”

Evelyn’s face began to heat up in embarrassment as he gave her an odd look at the strange outburst, avoiding his eyes as she began to look for her purse that was most likely on the floor with her clothes.

She found it eventually at the far corner of the room - clueless as to how it was thrown at such a distance - and stooped to reach for the device, holding up her towel as she did so.

Thankfully her phone hadn’t died, so she shot Candice a quick text to let her know she wouldn’t be coming home that night.

Evelyn was surprised once she heard a ‘ping!’ almost immediately after she’d sent the text, since she assumed her sister would be asleep right now.

Candice- I hope y’all ain’t raw doggin’ it over there. Protect ur self.

…She shut off her phone quickly after reading the message.

“Is everything alright, love?”

“Mhm! She just said to have fun, hehe…”

“Then come here,” Loki lounged nude amongst the black, silky sheets, patting the empty side of the bed, “I’m getting quite cold without you.”

Evelyn hurriedly joined him on the bed at his beckoning, dropping the towel to the floor before climbing in.

He pulled her body flush against his as soon as she was underneath the covers, then proceeded to occupy her lips with his own.

God, he was such a good kisser - She loved the feel of his tongue inside her mouth, and she could feel her body growing hot once more.

“I’m going to fuck this pretty little pussy sore, my sweet girl. I’m far from done with you.”

And her beautiful professor was true to his word.

Because she could hardly walk the following morning.

Previous Chapter

Summary: Loki and Evelyn go on a date. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Chapters: 11/?

Words: 2800+

Warnings:None

Tags:  @milkymaidme@dangertoozmanykids101@alexakeyloveloki@little-moonbeam-666 @marvel-ous-fics@clovermariear@lynnesm@bitchyikes@moon-child-of-a-poet,@allthecraftandthings@bubblegumspitt@shockwavee@blondekel77@nerd–nirvana@valdemarismynonbinarylove@nightrose64@pastelhexmaniac@iistormii

If you’d like to be added, let me know. I’ve also posted this onAO3

A/N:

I’ve neglected to post 11-12 on tumblr…so since I’ve recently updated, i’ll post everything in one go. so expect two more chapters.

____________

There was a moment where Evelyn thought she would get used to her professor’s stunning appearance…but it was on this day that she was proven wrong.

When she exited her apartment, she could see that Loki was waiting for her just below the steps, leaning leisurely against his car.

And lord help her - If she loved how the man looked in suits, his current attire sent her into a tizzy.
Forsaking the usual suit jacket, Loki donned a simple black dress shirt that sat snug against his form, with sleeves rolled up to reveal his forearms. His dark slacks fit quite nicely as well, and Evelyn struggled to keep her eyes well above his chest.

Luckily, she wasn’t the only one who perused without shame.
As Evelyn made her way towards him, she could feel his eyes scanning every inch of her body - and she grew increasingly self-conscious as he continued his silent appraisal.

“You are…the definition of stunning,” he said after a while, leaning down to place a chaste kiss on her forehead, “And you smell delightful as well.”

Unsurprisingly, Evelyn felt a heated blush rushing to her face, and she stumbled to reply, “You - you look really good too…” If she was getting this nervous already, Evelyn feared how the rest of the night would fare.

Once they were inside the vehicle, Evelyn started to probe - as subtly as she could, about their destination, but all she received were vague answers.

At first, she expected him to take her out to a fancy restaurant because he seemed to be a ‘posh’ kind of person, but since they were dressed quite casually, maybe that wasn’t the case? She would feel out of her element anyway if he took her somewhere expensive, so she hoped it was at least a comfortable, easygoing place with good food.

And easygoing it was.
After driving through the busy streets of Manhattan, Evelyn was pleasantly stunned to see that it wasn’t a fancy restaurant - but a taco bar.
Before they even stepped inside, her stomach growled loudly with approval.

Loki laughed at the strange sound, and Evelyn berated her stomach silently, “It seems I’ve made the correct choice, yes? While it isn’t taco Tuesday, I figured you’d still have a craving for it.”

She laughed, surprised he even remembered what she said from that long ago. “I guess that was a dead giveaway that tacos were my favorite…”
He smiled, ushering her into the bar with a hand on her lower back, “Indeed it was.”

Once they were inside, it took no time before they were seated and ready to order. Loki reassured her that she could have anything she wanted and not to worry about the expense, so Evelyn happily indulged - though she was still mindful not to choose the most expensive thing on the menu.

While Evelyn thoroughly enjoyed the fanciest looking taco she’d ever eaten, they gradually fell into comfortable conversation. It was almost reminiscent of the times they talked together in his office while he helped her study, before their desires came to light. Now though…the air between the pair was much more intimate.

Loki asked her questions about her life and family, whilst she did the same. He was rather tight-lipped about his own family situation, but relented that he was the youngest of three, with an older sister and brother. Evelyn tried to probe further, but he had managed to divert the conversation her way once more.

“….and I only wanted to shape up my eyebrows, but I ended up shaving off the entire thing! I remember putting on like, six pairs of pants because I just knew my mom would whoop me to the moon and back,”

Loki quirked a brow in query, “Were you attempting to soften the blow?”

“Yup,” Evelyn grinned proudly, “Though I gotta give credit to Candice for that one. I honestly think she loved getting in trouble with how wild she was…”

Evelyn paused momentarily, putting an abrupt end to her monologue. She debated with herself on whether or not to ask a question that had been bothering her for a while, before deciding to just get it out there.

“Can…I ask you something? Just out of curiosity…”

She could tell that Loki was intrigued by the sudden switch in subjects, because he seemed to be watching her facial expressions more carefully than before. He could easily see when she was flustered, and no doubt it must have shown on her face.

Evelyn shimmied slightly in her seat under his gaze, attempting to ignore the butterflies that fluttered within her stomach, “Well…uhm, why do you like me? Like, the actual reason?”

“…I beg your pardon?”

She panicked slightly at his confused expression, rephrasing her question in response, “Oh, well, what I mean is…I know you find me physically attractive…but is there something in particular that drew you to me…? Like, when exactly did you know that you saw me as more than a student?”

Loki seemed to pause entirely. Even after a minute or two, he said nothing - he merely looked at her with a distant expression, as if debating whether or not to tell her what he was actually thinking.

Evelyn frowned slightly at his reaction.
….Was that really that hard of a question?

Before she began to grow antsy, he finally decided to speak, “I…would prefer to answer that question in a more private setting. Perhaps later?”

Evelyn could only nod, her heart in the pit of her stomach. What was so wrong with his answer that he had to say it in private?

She tried not to let it bother her as they finished up dinner and headed towards his car, distracting herself with the sights outside the window as they once again took off into the bustling city.

After driving for around 30 minutes, she noticed that they had left the city, and into a more suburban area. Each house they passed by looked progressively fancier than the next, and she also noticed that his neighbors were few and far in-between each other.

For whatever reason, that observation made her nervous, and she began to wipe the sweat that formed on her hands onto her dress.

“Is everything alright, love?” Evelyn whipped her head to look at him suddenly, slightly startled, “You’re quiet,”

Evelyn reassured him immediately, “Oh, yeah! I’m just a bit drowsy, I almost nodded off a couple times…”

Loki chuckled at that, “We did eat quite a bit, so I wouldn’t be surprised. We’re almost there though, so hold on just a bit longer.”

And, he was right. After making a right turn, Evelyn’s eyes widened at the house that lay in the distance.

They went around a small roundabout that had an immaculately decorated water fountain at its center, before coming to a stop directly outside the house. Tall glass windows on the exterior hinted at the luxury that lay within, with the glittering chandeliers illuminating the marble flooring at the entrance.

“Uh…are you a drug dealer or something?” She asked in awe as he helped her out of the car, her eyes fixated on the impressive building. While it wasn’t a huge mansion by any means, it was still too large for one person to live by themselves. How he could afford such a nice house on a professor’s salary was beyond her comprehension.

Loki turned to look her in the eyes, his face cold and expressionless, “And what if I am?”

He couldn’t resist the laughter that bubbled in his chest at her hilarious expression of horror.

Loki flicked her forehead playfully, and she yelped in pain at the sudden attack, “You ask the strangest things, silly girl.”

She rubbed her forehead with a pout, remaining silent as he led her into the house by the hand.

If she thought outside was grand, then inside was another story.

It was exquisitely furnished and decorated, with marble floors so clear it felt as though she was walking on glass.

The interior decor was modern with a classical touch, and she couldn’t imagine another style that would fit him perfectly.

Loki observed as she took in her surroundings with glowing curiosity whilst guiding her towards the stairs,
“When you visit once more, perhaps then I’ll give you a small tour. For now though, I thought you’d appreciate seeing the collection right away.”

Once more?
That was the only thing that stuck out in that sentence to Evelyn, since he said that in a way that left no room for doubt. So he wouldn’t mind me coming over again…?

Evelyn mentally slapped herself, trying to get her mind out the gutter. She was really getting ahead of herself.

There isn’t a guarantee that anything will happen tonight, so I shouldn’t get my hopes up.

…….Wait, I had my hopes up? Oh boy…

From that train of thought, Evelyn knew she was in trouble.

After going up a flight of stairs, Loki made a left into a lengthy, spacious hallway that held only one large door at the end.

Due to a singular light source on the ceiling, the sight itself was slightly ominous, but she tried not to let that bother her.

Well, she tried, but Evelyn couldn’t resist clutching his arm.

Loki looked down at her with a smile, freeing his arm to loop it around her waist, “ Once we get inside, the lighting will be much better. See,”

When they finally reached the door and he began to open it, Evelyn had to do a double-take.

“When you said you had a collection…I thought you meant like, you know, a small room with a couple of paintings…but sir,”

In her excitement and awe, she stepped further into the wide, spacious room, marveling at the sight before her, “You have a whole museum in your house!!”

The room resembled a large gallery, with white walls and sheen, wooden flooring. There were glass cases that held valuable items of interest, with a considerable amount of paintings that neatly lined all four walls of the room.

Loki laughed, finding her excitement very endearing, “That’s a bit of an exaggeration, my dear.”

“But…but look!” Evelyn took him around the room eagerly, pointing at paintings of prominent artists she recognized, “ You actually have a Bob Ross painting, with his happy little trees! You really weren’t lying…”

Loki lifted a brow at that, “ You thought I was?”

“…Eh,” she brushed that off rather quickly, moving on to the next painting, “ Holy nuggets, I love this one!”

He came beside her to look at the piece in question, as she began leaning against the wall to look at the painting at an angle.

“Thomas Cole was my inspo for so long! Especially this painting… just look at those brushstrokes, so precise and confident…”

She was silent for a bit, turning to look at her professor with questioning eyes, “Say…why did you collect art? If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were an art history teacher or something.”

“I had a lot of time on my hands when I was younger. I did a fair amount of painting back then as a hobby, and developed a small obsession with the arts. Hence, this collection.”

He gestured at the space with a careless wave of a hand, “ I’ve long lost interest, though. I barely even remembered I had this room.”

Evelyn only nodded, slightly sad at his response, “Oh…”

"Despite that, I’ve been thinking about adding one more painting to the collection.”

She looked at him, intrigued, “ Oh? Whose?”

Loki stared into her eyes, his smile widening,
“None other than yours.”

Evelyn was utterly confused, “ Wait, what? What do you mean..?”

He went closer to her, taking her small hand into his own, “It would be an understatement to say that I was captured by your paintings when I visited your workspace. I would be honored to own a finished piece by you - of course, I’d gladly pay any price.”

“Huh!? But- I’m not really a professional, I’m far from good…besides, the walls are all filled up,”

He looked at the painting she was admiring moments before, “You said this painting inspired you greatly, correct?”

Evelyn looked at the painting, then back at Loki, “Yeah..but-”

“Then, I’ll exchange this painting for one of your own.”

At his proclamation, she immediately felt overwhelmed with emotion, “That- what? But that’s worth so much, that wouldn’t be fair at all. There’s no reason to be this nice to me…”

Evelyn couldn’t tell what this man was thinking, was he crazy? He wanted to exchange a master’s work worth thousands for hers, which was still mediocre at best. He was being way too generous…

“You’re thinking too much of it. I simply value your pieces much more,” He closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them once again, a primitive hunger lurked within the depths of his icy blue irises, “I admire everything about you, and your art is no exception.”

Her heart started to thrum wildly as he came closer, trapping her against the wall. Loki towered over her small form, and she looked up at him with an open mouth, speechless.

“Earlier, you asked why I liked you, and when my attraction began.” He traced a finger down her neck, ghosting towards her cleavage, “Would you like to know now?”

Evelyn gulped, only managing a nod as she stared up at him helplessly.

“It was around a year ago, and you came to me for help for the first time during my office hours. You struggled so much in my class, at the beginning. A shy little thing,”

His voice was growing darker and darker by the second, and the air around them rapidly twisted with his desire, “You were a sputtering mess, apologizing for every little mistake. But when you finally did something right, I praised you. You would smile so brightly when I did, so eager to please me so I’d praise you once more. Such a good girl,”

Loki leaned towards her further, his breath fanning against her cheek, “Tell me, my sweet little pet…do you want me to take care of you?”

It was like he was an entirely different person. This wasn’t the generous, warm man from before. Evelyn should’ve felt concerned at his words, his tone, the situation - but it was like she was in a trance, his words caressing a dark depth within her heart.

Good girl. She didn’t know why, but when he said those two simple words to her, in that deep, velvety voice of his…she couldn’t help but rub her thighs together.

Whatever this was, this feeling right now, she wanted more of it. She wanted him to praise her, to call her his good girl again.

She didn’t know what prompted her to say what she did in the next moment, but the words left her mouth so softly and suddenly before she could process it, “Please… take care of me,”

Loki’s lips were on hers before she could even blink. Evelyn released a muffled moan as his tongue plundered inside her mouth, pressing her body against the wall in such a manner that there was no space between them. He ravaged her tongue like a starving beast, and she reciprocated with the same ferocity.

Loki moved a hand towards her lower back, gripping her ass roughly. He gave it a quick squeeze, before lifting a leg in order to bury himself further between them. That action on his part allowed Evelyn to feel his distinct hardness against her sex, and the sensation caused her to whimper quietly in pleasure.

Things were going fast, way faster than Evelyn expected. If they continued along this route, she’d most likely lose her virginity right now, against the wall. While the thought appealed to her in the past while she fantasized about this moment with him, she wanted her first time to be…different. A little less rushed.

“Wait…wait a sec - mmh..!” She attempted to get him to slow down a bit, but his fervent attention to her neck and the slow grind of his hips were getting a bit too distracting.

Perhaps because of how breathless and quiet her words were, he failed to hear her, lost in his own world of pleasure. Finding no other way to garner his attention, she went to tug at his hair, burying her hand in his long, raven locks. She must have pulled harder than intended however, because the man actually growled when she did so, his eyes flying to meet hers.

“Um…can we - can we move somewhere else? Right here’s a bit…”

She could see that it took a moment for him to process her words. But when he did, Loki smiled apologetically,“ You’re right, I got carried away,” and with elegant swiftness, he lifted her into his arms to carry her out of the room, startling the wits out of the young woman.

“Thankfully, my bedroom isn’t far.”

____________________

This is happening. It’s really happening…!

She was about to fuck her professor, and there was no going back.

To say Evelyn was nervous would be an understatement. But regardless of her nerves, she had no intention of backing out of this arrangement. She trusted him with her first time and was frankly more excited than anything to see how it would feel.

When they finally reached his room, Evelyn barely had time to inspect the impressive decor before she was promptly deposited on the bed.

Loki was on top of her immediately, occupying her tongue with his own as he palmed her breast,
“We are wearing entirely too much clothing, pet,” he said once his tongue left her mouth, his eyes even with hers, “Let’s fix that, shall we?”

Wordlessly, he leaned off of her to remove his shirt with expert quickness, leaving Evelyn to gawk at his muscles.

I didn’t know abs could be this lickable…

Evelyn realized she must have been staring too long when she heard a chuckle above her, “Keep staring, and I just might blush,”

His fingers moved to tease the strap of her dress, “ While this dress is beautiful, I would much prefer what’s underneath.”

Before she could even protest, he pulled it down in one swift motion. Evelyn opted to go without a bra since the dress had built-in cups, so her brown, perky nipples immediately met the hungry eyes of her professor.

Out of reflex, her hands immediately went to cover them, her body growing impossibly hot, “ Wait - you could’ve warned me at least-“

Loki dragged her hands away from her breasts roughly, pinning them to the sides of her head, “Don’t you dare hide from me. Not now,” he growled, licking his lips as he locked eyes with her breasts once more, “Fuck…you’re perfect,” he panted heavily, before dipping his head to suckle a nipple into his mouth.

Evelyn didn’t expect that, and she jerked upwards due to the sensation, her eyes squeezed shut. Loki sucked and nipped at the tender bud, all while Evelyn whimpered and squirmed. Her breasts were especially sensitive, and he picked up on this fact rather quickly. Loki proceeded to exploit it, letting go of her wrist to tease the neglected breast with his fingers. He pinched her nipple, causing a shocked gasp to leave the girl’s lips.

Loki released her nipple from his mouth with a wet pop eventually, smiling a bit evilly. “My my, so responsive,”

He pulled her dress down fully, leaving Evelyn in just her underwear. She merely laid there, her mind hazy as her breasts ached from residual pleasure.

Loki couldn’t resist fondling them a bit more, “ You have no idea…how much I’ve wanted to touch you like this, with no barriers,” Loki leaned down between the crevices of her breasts, trailing reverent kisses down to her belly button, “My sweet, perfect girl…”

Evelyn’s breathing picked up in anticipation once he reached the hem of her underwear.

She was so unbelievably wet from just his tongue on her breasts, that there was a string of her arousal once he began to remove it.

“Spread your legs for me,” he demanded huskily. Evelyn’s eyes remained closed until she felt a strong grip on her jaw, forcing her eyes to open, “ Eyes on me, pet. And once again, spread your legs for me.”

She gulped at the authority in his voice, his aura exuding severe dominance. Evelyn promptly obeyed, locking her eyes with his own as she hesitantly opened her legs.

“Good girl,” He purred, rubbing the top of her knees affectionately. Evelyn could feel another flood of arousal rushing forth because of those two words once again.

Holy shit, what is this man doing to me?!

Loki bent down, and she watched through lidded eyes as he began to kiss and nip at her inner thighs, inching closer and closer towards her sex. Her breathing turned ragged with excitement, but the devil between her legs decided to take his merry time, never once touching where she needed him the most.

She tried to hold out as long as possible against his incessant teasing, but she began to beg after just ten minutes of his licking and sucking, “Please…please just - ah!” She jolted against his face once she felt his warm tongue lick right up her slit, her fingers twisting against the sheets.

Smiling, he gave her pussy a chaste kiss, “ Your pretty little cunt is so sensitive,” He moved his thumb up and down along her slit, dipping it inside her entrance lightly “ and you get so fucking wet,”

She knew he could curse a lot because of their previous encounters, but man can he talk dirty. Her eloquent, well-mannered professor was a sordid menace in bed, and the thought that she brought out this side of him aroused her greatly.

He removed his thumb from her slit, replacing them with two fingers instead. She was so wet, that they slipped right in with no issue. Evelyn clenched her walls tightly as he curled his fingers, thrusting them in an upwards motion as he sucked at her swollen clit.

“Holy fuh…!” Her words died down as her hand flew to his head, her back lifting off the bed at the sensory overload. His fingers worked in tandem with his tongue at a steady rhythm, and she couldn’t help but writhe, feeling a pressure slowly building in her abdomen.

Loki could tell she was close by her frantic breathing and clenching, so he removed his tongue from her clit to apply pressure to it with his thumb, “You’re doing so good, Evelyn. My good girl,”

“Please…please…” she wasn’t exactly sure what she was begging for - but whatever he was doing with his fingers made her feel so good, she wasn’t sure she could take any more of it.

“You’re so close, pet. Let go, cum for me.” And she did. She came on his hands with another curl of his fingers inside her, causing an unexpected scream to rip from her throat.

White appeared behind her eyelids as her eyes twitched shut from her orgasm, her skin twitching and rippling at the sheer amount of pleasure.

Evelyn laid limp, breathless and sweaty against the bed. She felt as though she was floating, not grounded into reality. Opening her eyes slowly, she mindlessly watched as he unbuckled his belt, throwing it aside to rid himself of his pants.

Unexpectedly, he wasn’t wearing any briefs, so his leaking, engorged cock bobbed proudly as soon as he released himself. And goodness did it really hit her. That huge thing was going to go inside of her.

Evelyn let out a small whimper as she stared at his dick, feeling slightly apprehensive.

Loki noticed her nervousness, reassuring her gently, “Shh…relax, it will hurt if you tense,” he paused then as if remembering something. He reached across from her to open his drawer that was beside the bed, pulling out a condom,
“While I’d love to fuck you raw, we wouldn’t want a happy little accident, now would we?”

Evelyn would’ve laughed at the subtle Bob Ross reference if she wasn’t so focused on what was to come.

He brought a hand to her leg, resting it on her knees as he took his cock in the other, rubbing it against her entrance, “ Remember, relax.”

And then, he began to push in.

Thankfully, he made sure she was adequately wet enough since it would be her first time, or else it would’ve hurt like hell.

Evelyn moaned mildly in pain, the shock of the intrusion causing her to tense immensely. He paused, massaging her stomach while kissing the tears away from her cheek, “Just a little more, love. You’re taking me so well,” he groaned, the feel of her tight, fluttering walls maddening.

She slowly started to relax under his soothing ministrations, giving him the go-ahead to continue pushing in. And with one more steady push, he was fully nestled inside.

“Fuck…” he moaned almost breathlessly, his eyes fluttering shut at the enveloping warmth around his cock, “You feel like absolute heaven.”

Evelyn was biting her lips hard enough that they could draw blood, so he began to kiss her in a languid manner. She slowly brought her hands around his neck, burying her hand into his silky tresses as she lost herself against his lips, forgetting the momentary pain.

Loki began moving in slow pumps, holding her body against his so that her breasts flattened against his chest. The pain was ebbing away, and pleasure began to spread as he started hitting a particular spot, “You - mmh! You… you can go a bit faster…now…”

Since he received the go-ahead, he picked up the pace, delivering several shallow thrusts at a steady rhythm. The sounds of their skin slapping together filled the room, and Loki could hear she was slowly growing wetter with each thrust, “You had nothing to worry about, little one. See? You fit my cock perfectly, just like a glove.”

It wasn’t long until he started going faster, the pace growing more relentless as time went on. Evelyn started screaming his name repeatedly, her voice growing progressively hoarser, “Loki, Loki! P…please, wait just, - too much, too much! -“

She wasn’t sure she could handle the brutal thrusts of his cock much longer. He refused to slow down, holding her hands above her head as he continued to fuck her into the bed, his eyes glazed with animalistic pleasure.

Her eyes practically rolled to the back of her head, and her professor’s sinful voice filtered into her ears, “If you ask nicely like the good girl you are, perhaps then I’ll show you some mercy, hmm?”

“Please…please…”

“Please what, girl. Use your words,”

“Please…sir, please make me come…!”

With that, he released her wrists to thumb at her clit - and Evelyn swore that she saw stars in that very moment, her brain going blank completely. Loki almost cursed once more as she clenched tightly around his cock, the sensation finally bringing him to completion. He groaned loudly as he came, her name falling from his lips as he pulled out, slumping forward.

It took a while for Loki to compose himself before he began to shift his weight, so that she wasn’t crushed beneath his body.

As for Evelyn, the poor thing was worked to exhaustion, and passed out shortly after her final orgasm.

—————————

A/N: 

Hope ya’ll enjoyed that hefty dose of smut. I know I certainly did. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Please let me know what you think, since I’m still insecure about writing smut scenes. What in particular did you enjoy, or dislike? Again, thanks for reading!

Previous Chapter

An AU Loki fic

Summary:  Lita sourly regretted going to his office. She should’ve stayed home, to work on her manuscript. Then she would head out to the daycare, and watch her cute little son play for a bit. Live in her ignorant bubble. But no, she just had to make him lunch, didn’t she?

Chapters: 3/3

Pairing: Loki/Original Character

Words: 1662

Warning: Angst, Implied/Referenced cheating

Tags:@voila-tout@caffiend-queen

I hope this was a satisfying end :)

Read it here on AO3 as well!

I listened to this song as I wrote,

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IHEGzsyzr1w

I hope it fits!

———

Although her eyes were closed, she could sense that he was watching her through the door.

Lita had been in the hospital for a week now, and she slowly but surely gained back some of her energy. Although, she still felt ridiculously sluggish and weak.

A part of her never wanted to recover, however. If it meant she had to see Loki again…she honestly wasn’t sure if she could survive it.

Her heart was still in shambles, his words from a week ago tearing her further a part. How he only loved her. That it was just “meaningless sex.” It made her sick to the core.

But for the sake of Uri…she had no choice but to confront him. He was the father of their child, and she had to speak with him eventually no matter how much it may hurt.

She opened her eyes, and turned to Thor who played idly with Uri in the seat beside her bed. He was a frequent visitor, with Frigga dropping by on occasion. She thought that she’d prefer some solitude but…she appreciated them, despite everything.

“Tell…him to come…in.” She said in between breaths. Her body was still in somewhat of a stupor, so she could only say a few words at a time.

Thor paused, and looked at her with a surprised expression.

“Lita, are you certain? You still haven’t…”

“I need…to do this.”

Thor still looked unsure, but he adhered to her wishes, holding Uri to bring him outside, “…I’ll call him over, then.”

When Loki entered, she could tell that he barely slept a wink, his pallor sickly with dark shadows underneath his eyes. She found it almost funny, that he looked as heartbroken as she did.

“…Lita, I…”

She wanted to say something. But her throat constricted, trapping the words before they could escape. Because all she saw whenever she looked at him, was a man that gave himself to someone else. A sordid memory.

She revisited the scene in his office so much in her head that she no longer felt rage, or sadness. She was just…hollow.

Lita merely pointed vaguely to the seat beside her, remaining silent.

Loki took her cue, and moved to take the seat offered. A beat of silence passed as they stared at each other, and he contemplated what to say to her. He rehearsed this moment so many times that he dreamt about it, what he could say to gain her forgiveness.

But before he could ponder any further, her quiet voice finally broke the silence.

“…I’m so tired,”

He stared at her as she spoke, swallowing.

“I’m so tired…of everything. Too tired to hate, to feel sad. To think.”

“Even…before you did what…you did. This feeling…was always there.”

“Sometimes I would just… look in the mirror…and…not know who I was looking at…or..who’s looking at me.”

“I…became a stranger to you, didn’t I? My tiredness, my hopelessness… it led you astray. I became a burden… to escape. I tried so hard to hide it…to smile, and be happy. But…I failed.”

She closed her eyes, leaning back into the bed, “If it wasn’t for Uri…I would’ve jumped… from the window in our room.”

Loki recoiled visibly. His face was wet with tears.

“Stop…don’t talk like that. Stop it.”

“It’s…just the truth. I wish…I told you how I felt, much…much earlier. I wish I wasn’t so scared…”

“Lita…please listen to me. I am the one in the wrong. It was a moment of weakness, a grave mistake. The problem lies solely with me,”

“Then…for how long…did it go on for? For you to realize…it was a mistake? What was it…before then? It was a choice…right?”

“A choice you made, despite the life…we built with each other. There was a reason…why you slept with her. Instead of just…talking to me.”

Loki’s head hung low, his body drenched in defeat.

“..I’m sorry. I’m so…so sorry,”

In all the years they’d been together, she’d never heard him cry. Not like this.

“I’m willing…to do anything to make up for this,”

He looked up, eyes red and narrowed. Determined.

“Whatever you want me to do, I’ll do it. If you want me to leave you be… then I’ll leave. If I am to stay by your side at all times, then I’ll do so. You.. you probably won’t ever trust me again. But for the sake of all the years we spent together, for our son, please…give me a chance to make up for this. Please…”

She stared at him, eyes wide.

“It hurts… just to look at you.”

“I..I know.”

“Even if…I somehow forgave you…I won’t ever see you…the same way…”

“I know…”

“I might…hurt you, remind you…again and again…of what you did…”

“I…know.”

“I’ll always compare…myself to that woman. What she had… and I didn’t.”

“ She could only satisfy one aspect, and one aspect only. She, or anyone else can’t compare to you. I’ve released her from her position, and I’ve been working from home this past week. I won’t ever see her again.”

“You’ll…get tired of me - “

“ - I won’t get tired of you. I was never tired of you…I was just too greedy. ”

“I don’t believe… you. Empty…promises.”

“I know…and I don’t expect you to. I’ll just have to show you. That from now on, my promises…are far from empty.”

She did not reply after that, and just looked at him.

He tried not to shrink underneath her cold, scrutinizing gaze. But her silence made him nervous, causing him to fidget.

“Tomorrow…I’ll be discharged.”

She looked away from him then, staring straight ahead. “When we…get home. I want to be… alone.”

We.

Although she made no comment about his promises to redeem himself, his heart lifted in momentary hope. Granted, she still wanted nothing to do with him. But she wanted to return home. To the home they shared together.

“…I understand, Lita..”

______________________

The weeks following were practically torturous for Loki.

When she arrived home that first day, she barely looked in his direction, and only spoke to him if it related to Uri.

She obviously didn’t want to share a bed with him, so he took it upon himself to move elsewhere.

Thankfully they had two guest rooms in the house, so he relocated to the one upstairs.

Although Loki wanted to give Lita more space, more air to breathe, it made him incredibly anxious if she was by herself for too long. What she told him that day in the hospital haunted him. That she wanted to end her own life…

The night before she returned, he went home and immediately bolted that window shut.

But even with that, the worries for her safety continued to plague him.

So despite himself, Loki slowly began to hover over her. Even if he wasn’t so overly concerned for her wellbeing… he missed her dearly.

It was subtle. He never came too close that she would be uncomfortable, or notice him right away. If she was reading in the living room on the couch, he would stand by the door, watching silently. When she wanted to take a walk in the park with Uri, he’d wait a few minutes after she’d leave the house, and followed behind them a reasonable distance away.

Loki loved the way the breeze would sway her hair, how the sunlight would glisten her eyes. He loved the way she smiled when she played with their son. If only he could see it up close once more.

They ate and prepared meals separately now. Because on the second day that Lita came home and he cooked dinner for them and Uri, he found the entirety of her food dumped in the bin. Untouched. He understood, but it hurt nonetheless.

Lita never spoke to him directly, since their exchange in the hospital. If she needed to tell him something, she would leave simple, to the point notes.  He kept them all in a drawer close to his bed. They were far from love-letters, but he found whatever words she addressed to him precious.

This went on for almost two, long years. His hovering. Her coldness. His yearning.

But after two years, he finally saw a glimmer of hope.

It started on his birthday, her small change in behavior.  He’d woken up to a delicious aroma that wafted up the stairs from the kitchen, so he went down slowly, cautiously.

As always, he hovered by the kitchen door, just watching. Lita was flipping pancakes by the stove, swaying to the beat of her humming. And Uri, now four years old, sat at the table with a cushion underneath his bum, yogurt smeared on his cheeks as he ate. The scene was warm and beautiful, yet it tortured him so. Because he knew he was not welcome.

“…You’re awake,”

Loki stuttered back in alarm, not expecting to hear her voice. She knew he was there?

"I could feel your brooding presence for a minute now,” She turned to look at him then, her skin glowing, her eyes bright. “Stop standing there and come sit.”

Loki was still a bit shocked, so there was a delay in reaction. She didn’t wait for him to move from his spot, and went back to cooking.

He made his way slowly, sitting down at the table apprehensively.

When she turned around from the stove once more, she had a plate of fluffy, hot pancakes.

“You look so worried,” she walked to the table, placing the plate of pancakes in front of him, “It’s just pancakes, Loki.” There was a playful tint to her tone, a small, barely there smile on her face.

Loki looked up at her, eyes wide. He pinched himself discreetly underneath the table. Surely, this must be a dream.

Lita didn’t stay by his side at the table much longer, moving to the far end to sit with Uri.

Loki looked down at his plate. The pancakes were fluffy, whipped cream on top, drizzled in strawberry syrup. His absolute favorite.

He picked up the fork to section the pancake, before taking a small bite.

He closed his eyes to stop the tears from breaking through. Because the taste filled with love… was just as he remembered.

An AU Loki fic

Summary:  Lita sourly regretted going to his office. She should’ve stayed home, to work on her manuscript. Then she would head out to the daycare, and watch her cute little son play for a bit. Live in her ignorant bubble. But no, she just had to make him lunch, didn’t she?

Chapters: 2/3

Pairing: Loki/Original Character

Words: 2292

Warning: Angst, Implied/Referenced cheating

A/N :  A sad fic to match the gloomy, rainy weather rn. I love reading heartbreaking shit on occasion, so enjoy this two-shot of depression. Sorry not sorry. Inspired by @voila-tout‘s fic, “Little Do you Know”

———

The first thing that Loki found alarming was the darkness of the house. Lita should most definitely be home about now. In fact, he knew she was home since her car was parked in the driveway. This puzzled him. The house would usually be filled with a delicious aroma, a warm glow of comfort enveloping the atmosphere. Her singing as she worked to prepare dinner. But silence reigned.

He held his son as he made his way further into the house, flicking the nearest switch to turn on the lights.

“Mmm… where Momma?” Uri fidgeted restlessly in his arms, wanting to be put down.

“Settle down Uri, your mother’s probably sleeping,”

That was the conclusion he drew up in his head, urging his son to return back to sleep with a gentle whisper. He didn’t have to do much urging however, the car ride making him sufficiently drowsy. He carried Uri to his room, placing him carefully into his cradle for a nap.

After that was done, Loki went to look for Lita, heading straight to their bedroom first. He hoped she was actually there, asleep.

Loki opened the door, and he found her immediately.

Her small silhouette sat by the large window under the cover of darkness, the cold air drifting in to ruffle the curtains above her. Since the window was open, her dress was thoroughly drenched because of the rain.

“Lita? Darling….”

He made his way over to her in large strides after turning on the light in the room, stooping beside her. Worry and confusion overtook his face when she did not deign to acknowledge his presence, her face turned stubbornly to look outside as the rain pelted against her face.

“How long have you been sitting here in the dark? Lita? You even neglected to pick up Uri. I did it for you, so you don’t have to worry. But, what happened? Why is the window open?”

“……..”

No response.

Loki swallowed, the lump in his throat becoming extremely painful. It was decided. She knew…she most definitely knew. Why else would she be ignoring him so fervently?  But he had to ask, just to be sure.

He sighed, bracing himself for the inevitable outburst.

“Lita, did…did you come by the office today?”

But again, he was met with silence.

He shakily took a hold of her hand, holding it against his lips to kiss it, “Love…please. I know… I know what you probably saw was - was terrible. It was just…meaningless sex, I assure you. I only love you.”

Even with his outright confession, her body moved not an inch. She didn’t even revolt from his touch, or look at him with the disgust that he knew he deserved.

He began to grow frustrated, his expression twisting. He let go of her hand, moving to grab her shoulders full-on to turn her towards him, “ I know you can’t even look at me, but say something! Curse at me, tell me how much of a bastard I am. Hit me, anything! Don’t…don’t run away from me like this…talk to me,”

All he got in response was the patter of the rain against the windowsill.

Although her body now faced him from when he grabbed her shoulders, her head remained turned away.

He got up from his knee, moving to pace the room in frantic steps. He sat down on the bed with a loud thump, hands moving to cover his face.

Why in the world wasn’t she speaking?

She never ignored him before. Even in their most heated arguments, she always sought to speak with him about whatever it was that troubled her. Was his betrayal thatshocking?

Tears threatened to overtake his eyes. Deep down…he knew it was.

Loki looked up from his fingers to stare at her, brows furrowed. Her body was like a statue, he could barely even make out a single twitch. Lita was positioned uncomfortably, her neck craned to look away from him, her hand hanging in the air from when he kissed it.

It hit him that something must be seriously wrong at that moment. This was not a mere act of malice.

He went to her once more, attempting to move her head to look at him. He was met with some resistance, but eventually, his eyes met her own. But although she now faced him, it was like she was staring into the void, her face expressionless.

Loki moved her arms up and down, and they would stay in the exact position he posed them in, like a doll. That was all the confirmation he needed to take her to the hospital. Her behavior was too abnormal.

But first, he had to get her warm. She was cold to the touch, which meant she was most likely sitting there, soaked for hours.

He released a shaky, tortured breath. The reason she was like this…it was all his fault.

In the first attempt to try and move her, he looped his arm underneath her legs in order to transition to a princess carry.

Well, it was an attempt. Because moving her was actually much harder than he anticipated. Lita was a small woman, and especially light on her feet. He had absolutely no issues carrying her previously. But it was like all her muscles seized up in a painful way, adding drastically to her weight.

Still, he never gave up. Now that he knew about the stiffness, he tried once more to -

“D…”

He paused, head shooting up to look at her face. It was quiet, so quiet he almost missed it. Was she trying to say something?

Her face was still mostly expressionless, with the exception of her trembling lips. It looked as though it took exceptional effort just to say a letter, so he waited patiently with bated breath, moving closer so he could hear her whispers.

“D….on’t. F….uh…c, in…..”

There was a momentary silence before she started once again, “Tuh…ch…m..me…”

Don’t fucking touch me.

Lita spoke slowly, with plenty of pauses. But her words translated loud and clear, slapping him across the face.

He didn’t know what he expected her to say. His throat constricted painfully, her words hurting much more than he anticipated. But he understood that whatever hurt he felt in that moment didn’t even come close to what she was experiencing.

He swallowed thickly, blinking away the tears that were starting to form against his will, “I..I know. I’m sorry…please allow me to move you away from here, at least. The last thing I want is for you to get sick,”

Loki wanted to honor her wishes. He knew he’d lost any right to touch her, but he couldn’t and wouldn’t leave her there to get soaked by the rain any longer.

He resumed what he was doing, looping an arm underneath her legs, and held her against his chest.

Although Lita’s face was serene, he somehow sensed that she wanted to fight against his touch with everything she had.

Loki did not want to make her more unhappy than she already was, so he hurriedly went to place her on the bed. He covered her with the blankets, tucking her stiff feet underneath the covers, “…I will make some soup, to help warm you up. Uri’s sleeping, but he should be hungry right about now as well.”

He looked at her for a long time after he said those words, his expression sorrowful. If only he hadn’t fallen into temptation…then Lita wouldn’t be like this. He’d get to see the smile he loved so much, and hear her laugh…

Loki turned away sharply, marching from the room. He had to focus.

Although Lita loved to do the cooking, sometimes he would offer to make dinner on days she felt particularly stressed. She loved his chicken soup, so he set off in preparing it.

He worked diligently, so it was finished in about an hour. He went to check on Uri and saw that he was still asleep, then brought the soup over to Lita.

Loki’s heart drummed nervously, sitting on the bed next to her as he held the bowl of soup in his hands.

“I made your favorite soup. No carrots, just the way you would like it.”

She only stared straight ahead. It clicked for him that she couldn’t eat even if she wanted, and he doubted she’d be reticent to spoon-feeding.

He dejectedly placed the bowl on the side table next to the bed, then pulled out his phone “I’m going to call Thor, to help you into the car and watch Uri. I’m taking you to the hospital.”

The one-sided conversation was slowly starting to make him feel sick, so he left the room as he dialed Thor’s number.

“Loki!”

Thor burst through the door loudly, looking absolutely enraged, “Where’s Lita?!”

Thor cared for Lita as if she was his own sister, so to hear the nonsense that Loki spoke over the phone…the anger he felt for her was palpable.

Loki was waiting for him, his expression cold. “Hello, brother.” He was immediately lifted by the collar, Thor bringing his face dangerously close to his, “I have every mind to hit you where you stand, Loki. Just…how could you?”

Loki closed his eyes, his true sorrow masked with indifference. “Then do as you will, Thor. Though I doubt it would change a thing.”

Thor’s eyes nearly glowed red, but he lowered his fist, shrugging Loki away from him, “…Where is she? I’ll take her to the hospital. Watch over Uri instead.”

“No. I am her next of kin, her husband,” he adjusted his collar, looking off to the side as he spoke, “It would be more useful to the doctors if I was there, to answer questions.”

“You have no right to call yourself her husband.” Thor turned sharply, “Take me to her. I’ll help her into the car.”

Thor allowed the tears to flow from his eyes as he saw Lita’s state, moving onto the bed to pull her into an embrace. Her hands laid limp at her sides as he hugged her, “I’m so sorry, Lita. You do not deserve this.”

As Loki requested, Thor carried Lita to the car, placing her in the back seat. He put a blanket on her lap to help keep her warm, then buckled her in. “She’s ready now.”

“…Thank you, Thor.”

Thor only shook his head, his voice laced with disappointment, “Just make sure she’s okay, Loki. I’ll watch the little bean sprout.”

With that, he left Loki to take her to the hospital.

————————-

Catatonic Depression.

That was what the doctor said, yet he had problems comprehending it.

The doctor had asked him a plethora of questions about her general health, since Lita clearly was unable to answer. The questions then took a strange turn when the woman asked him if she suffered from depression in the past, and started to move Lita’s limbs about experimentally.

“Her…sister recently passed, and she would have periods where she would just…stare blankly into space. But, things have never progressed like this before.”  Loki knew that wasn’t the only reason. But he didn’t want to surface his shame.

“And she was only like this when you came home, correct?” Loki simply nodded his head.

“She has most of the symptoms of catatonia, so we’ll have imaging studies done to ensure there isn’t a tumor, or another underlying condition.”

The doctor turned towards him then, “But based on what you said, it’s most probable that she’s suffering from catatonic depression. She’s had history, so this is a likely diagnosis.”

She placed Lita’s arms down back to the bed, writing down notes on her pad, “I will discuss treatment options after the results are in, so I suggest checking her in for a few days.”

Loki’s face paled. Whatever Lita had, it sounded serious, “Cat…Catatonic depression? Forgive me, but I’m clueless as to what that is,”

“It’s a subtype of depression, which means a person may appear speechless or motionless for periods at a time. Hmm…it’s still unclear what causes it, but factors include a history of depression, the passing of a loved one, or any event equally shocking in nature. This isn’t to be taken lightly, as it can hinder her daily life in the future.”

Loki’s entire body felt weak as he sat by her bed, his pallor now a sickly shade. The doctor noticed his distress, and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, “I say this, but it’s very treatable with the correct approach. Lita has a high chance to recover.”

He was no longer listening, his body listless. How couldn’t he have noticed that things were this bad? He ignored all the signs of his wife’s growing sadness, to instead seek pleasures of the flesh. Loki recalled Thor’s words. He had no right to call himself her husband.

In the next few days, he watched over Lita from afar, not wanting to upset her too much with his presence. He wanted her to recover as quickly as possible, so he made his presence scarce. Most of his family visited, however, with Thor bringing Uri in to see his mother.

Slowly but surely, she started to recover. She was placed on medication that proved effective, and she was starting to speak and move again.

He watched from the door window as she slowly ruffled their son’s hair, hugging him to her chest as she spoke to Thor. For the first time in a while, she was smiling.

That smile may never reach his direction ever again…but it made his dark morning a tad brighter.

A/N: I may or may not do a part 3. I have trouble deciding. 

An AU Loki fic

Summary:  Lita sourly regretted going to his office. She should’ve stayed home, to work on her manuscript. Then she would head out to the daycare, and watch her cute little son play for a bit. Live in her ignorant bubble. But no, she just had to make him lunch, didn’t she?

Chapters: 1/3

Pairing: Loki/Original Character

Words: 1767

Warning: Angst, Implied/Referenced cheating

A/N :  A sad fic to match the gloomy, rainy weather rn. I love reading heartbreaking shit on occasion, so enjoy this two-shot of depression. Sorry not sorry. Inspired by @voila-tout‘s fic, “Little Do you Know”

—————————-

Lita could no longer feel her arms or legs.

Hours had passed since she stumbled into the house, lost and broken. It took tremendous effort just to remove her jacket wet from the rain, moving sluggishly to the large window inside their bedroom. She slumped downward slowly, perching on its edge.

How much time went by, she was unsure. Three hours? Five, perhaps? Judging from the darkening skies, she surmised that it’s been a while. She was starving, but no matter how hard she tried to move her limbs, her gaze remained transfixed to the streets below.

She hated it, the feeling of helplessness. The deafening silence and darkness of the room. It engulfed her, helping the horrid memories that she encountered hours before to replay inside her mind’s eye like a broken, filthy record.

Loki, her beautiful husband, making love to a woman that was not her.

Lita didn’t think she’d ever forget the way he gripped the flesh of the woman’s backside, his wedding ring glinting cruelly against her irises as he aided his lover into riding him. Was she so insignificant, a fleeting thought, that he didn’t even bother to remove it?

Her limbs tightened further at the thought. She wanted to cry and scream, do anything but just stare blankly into space. But her body refused to listen, as if it was turned to stone. Besides that, she was supposed to pick up their son. The daycare must be worried sick.

Perhaps…she was the problem. Surely she was. The burden of her growing sadness since the passing of her sister was too much for him to bear, so he needed a release.

She was always a helpless burden, when was she never? She was so surprised when he got down on his knees to propose to her, all those years ago. Someone so perfect, so good looking, treating a plain woman like herself with so much adoration she did not deserve.

Lita’s sex drive wasn’t particularly high, but she attempted to please him in whatever way she could. She loved him, so whenever they were intimate, she loved it as well. It was passionate, searing, and wonderful.

Eventually, they gave birth to a child. Loki loved the fact that their son had her eyes. He stated it made him all the more beautiful. That he couldn’t wait to have plenty more.

But judging from what she’d seen, his appetite was much larger, much darker than whatever she could offer.

Lita sourly regretted going to his office. She should’ve stayed home, to work on her manuscript. Then she would head out to the daycare, and watch her cute little son play for a bit. Live in her ignorant bubble. But no, she just had to make him lunch, didn’t she?

She never did something like that before in the years they’d been together because she was always busy, so she wanted to surprise him with something special. Lita had an inkling she’d been neglectful to his feelings for a while now, what with the stress of deadlines for her novel and her sick sister.

Janet, Lita’s now-deceased sister, was her only family left. So Loki was especially sympathetic. He didn’t even give an indication that her changing moods distressed him, reassuring her with the same glowing smile and attentiveness each and every time she felt low. And goodness were those times horrible. Even before she met Loki, she would have periods of overbearing sadness. It would hit her like a freight train. Unexpected, unsuspecting. She wouldn’t even wish it on her worst enemy.

So like the good wife she was, she decided to bring him lunch in order to show some appreciation. Loki loved her cooking, after all.

She should’ve found it strange when the secretary that was usually seated at the desk was nowhere to be found. She’d frequented his workplace in the past, and Loki kept his employees on a strict timetable. The tall, pretty woman should’ve been at the desk, her lunch break not for another half hour.

But Lita brushed it off. Whatever emergency that woman had was none of her business. Or so she thought.

It was like a blade had slashed her heart when she heard the sounds coming from her husband’s office.  She stepped closer to the source of the sound, heart hammering. The door was left ajar.

“Sir, please…I’m yours,”

“Then ride me like the good girl I know you are. Then maybe, I’ll let you cum this time.”

“Yes… yes, please! I love it, I love your cock,”

“So fucking tight…”

Lita could’ve sworn she almost fainted right then and there.

She stumbled backward as if the wind had been knocked out of her by an invisible force.

The food she took time to prepare fell to the floor, the contents spilling from the box with a loud thump. But even with that, the pair within the room was absorbed in their own world, unhearing.

Her legs felt like lead. She made her way slowly towards the elevator, clicking the button to return to the ground floor.

From that moment onward, it was as if she was in a trance. The greetings from the employees that knew her fell on deaf ears as she made her exit, her movements slow and painful. She wanted to run, get away as fast as possible, but it was like walking against the unrelenting waves of the ocean.

Lita reached home eventually…and from that moment on, her body became a part of the windowsill.

Loki, and hopefully their son, should be home any minute now. Lita dreaded to see him. To see him smile, as if nothing was wrong. His touch. She’d much rather disappear.

Unfortunately, she was right. Lita heard the tell-tale beeping of the security code being entered, as heavy footsteps eventually came into earshot.

————————————————————

As soon as his meeting ended, Loki rushed out in a panic. Everyone in the meeting room could tell he was anxious for whatever reason, and he confirmed their suspicions when the normally calm, stoic boss was out the door in seconds, ending the meeting early.

He received a troubling call that his wife had yet to pick up their son. It made the knot in his throat worsen.

His anxiety began when his secretary - Clara, if he could recall her name correctly - made a strange inquiry as soon as she left his office, skirt ruffled from their weekly tryst.

Loki wasn’t sure when it started. Lita was a wonderful, beautiful woman. He loved her to hell and back, and that love only grew in their years together. She was passionate whenever they made love, and a caring mother to their son, a child he loved dearly. However…there were certain limits that she made clear she wouldn’t and couldn’t surpass, whether it was sexual or otherwise.

He never once blamed her, or judged her for it. Loki understood from the moment he fell for her, that some of his wants would never be fulfilled. He thought he could manage, that the love he had for her would be enough to curb his darker desires. But apparently, he was wrong.

Clara was like a flame, and he was the moth. Whatever Lita refused to do, Clara did it without hesitation. Did he love her? No, but she was addicting. Thrilling. Once the rush was there, it was hard to let go - despite the guilt that slowly ate away at his heart.

And that slow, burgeoning guilt and paranoia raised its head once more whenever Clara left his office.

“Huh? What is this?!”

He heard Clara’s startled voice from the door, and he made his way to her to see what was wrong.

Food was spilled all over the carpeted floor, the ornate box that housed its contents tipped to the side.

Loki’s heart plummeted. He recognized that lunchbox.

“Who would just come here and spill food all over?! Don’t worry sir, I’ll call the janitor-“

“Leave it.” His eyes were transfixed to the box, panic slowly overtaking his body. “…Oh? But-“

“Clara,”

He nearly hissed, his eyes cold and unfriendly, “ You have somewhere to be, do you not?”

Clara’s eyes widened at his tone, entirely different from the man she was with moments prior. She hurriedly scurried away when his expression grew more severe.

Loki was alone now, and he stared at the box. Perhaps it was a coincidence? The box wasn’t particularly unique, so surely it belonged to someone else. Lita had no reason to come all the way out to his building, especially when she was already so stressed. But the contents…they were all his favorite things to eat.

He took out the phone that was in his suit pocket, his hands trembling as he dialed Lita’s number.

Her soothing voice immediately entered his ears, meaning it had gone to voicemail.

Loki tried several more times, and the result was the same. This wasn’t an odd occurrence, actually. Whenever she concentrated on writing, she was practically deaf to the world. But this still unnerved him.

That was all he thought about as he begrudgingly went to his meeting. He could hardly focus as his employees spoke, running through all the possibilities as to why that lunch box was there. Did Lita ask someone to bring it up for her, and they were clumsy enough to spill it? Surely she would’ve cried and screamed at him, confronted him about his unfaithfulness if she came herself. Just imagining that scene tore at his heart.

His thoughts came to an abrupt end when his cell-phone interrupted the chatter in the room, and he hurriedly checked it. Was it Lita..?

No. Instead, it was the daycare company that took care of their son while they both worked. If they were calling him at this time, something must be wrong. He signaled for the people in the room to hush as he picked up the call.

“Hello, is this Mr. Laufeyson speaking?”

“…Yes, this is he.”

“Your wife was supposed to come for Uri over an hour ago, and she’s not answering our calls. Is it possible for you to pick him up at this time?”

And that was when he ended the meeting abruptly, rushing out the door.

He hurried home after picking up his son, Uri babbling nonsense in his safety seat at the back of the car. This was so unlike Lita, to leave their son for a prolonged period of time. 

There was something wrong, and he hoped dearly that it wasn’t the reason he feared.